Best Mistake
by shelizabeth
Summary: (A series of Charming family one-shots. Post a prompt or request in the reviews.) First chapter: Rewrite of the scene from Manhattan. Henry overhears Emma calling getting pregnant a mistake when they find Neal and runs off. Simple fluff of Emma and Henry talking about it.
1. Best Mistake

**I do not own anything. (I just started playing around with the word mistake, and I decided to rewrite the scene in Manhattan if Henry had heard his mom calling him a mistake. Enjoy and thanks for any feedback! It really helps and makes my day!)**

"No, you don't get to do that!" Emma yelled. "You don't get to play innocent and act like you would have stepped up and been father of the year!"

"You never even gave me the chance! Why didn't you tell me about him?" Neal barked back. Emma bowed a little at the harshness of his tone. She scolded herself for it, telling herself that he had no power over her anymore. He had no right to make her feel bad for her decisions.

"Because you left! Because I wasn't stupid enough to think a stupid mistake would make you stay!"

"Emma..." He said, sounding softer now, staring behind her.

"Don't Emma me," she said, putting her hand up and turning her head. When she looked at the doorway, she saw a heartbroken ten year old watching his parents fight. "Henry. How long have you been standing there?"

"That's what you think of me still? A mistake? That's what I'll always be to you, huh?"

"Henry, wait!" Emma called to the air that was pushed back from Henry's sudden movements. She followed the only trail he could have taken in the small apartment to the small window that led to balcony outside Neal's apartment. The rain was pouring so hard it was making loud splattering noises as it hit the ground and anything else it came in contact with. Henry's hair was already dripping down his face and he was holding his arms while he shivered. Emma suddenly had to fight the urge to bring him inside, wrap a blanket around him, and squeeze him until he was suffocatingly warm. She huffed to herself, realizing that Henry made being a mother a lot easier than she expected.

"Go away," Henry said, ducking his head into his shivering arms.

"I'm sorry for what you heard."

"But not sorry for what you said. Because you said what you meant."

Emma tilted her head then moved next to Henry, giving him a little push to scoot over. She put his hand on his knee and gave it a little squeeze.

"You can't honestly think that," Emma said, and Henry looked up at her. As soon as she saw his eyes, she knew he did. "You're my kid. I love you."

"You have to say that," Henry accused.

"You know me better than anyone. Would I say anything just because I have to?"

Henry thought about it and shrugged, not ready to give up just yet. He still could hear his mom's voice describing his existence as a mistake.

"I really am sorry, Henry. Mistake is a really terrible word to use. Mistakes are something you wish you could take back, something you'd do over if you could. That would make you the complete opposite of a mistake," Emma smiled and got a small one back from Henry. "You know when I first started believing in all this magic stuff and fairy tales and who my parents were, my first thought was about time travel."

Henry raised his brows in disbelief. "Time travel?"

"Yup. All I could think about was going back in time, I figured there must be a way somehow. I thought we could get a redo on everything, that Mary Margaret and David could..."

"...keep you? Kill Regina before she had the chance to enact the curse?" Henry offered.

"Yeah. Something like that. But when I went back to the Enchanted Forest with Mary Margaret and I was without you, that's when I knew."

"Knew what?"

Emma shifted to face towards him when she spoke. "Henry, I would go through every terrible thing in my life ten times over again, every lonely night and empty day, every tear and outburst, I would do it again in a heartbeat as long as it meant I didn't have to lose you. When I was without you in the Enchanted Forest, and all I could think about was coming home, it didn't feel like I was missing a part of my family. Being without you felt like missing a part of myself." Emma shuffled, but looked at Henry with hopeful eyes. She had never cared if someone understood something so badly before. "I'm sorry it took me so long to believe you," she said suddenly, her voice breaking. "I was wrong. As you may have noticed, I don't always say or do the right thing. But the only thing I know, the only thing I've been sure of while my world has turned upside down, is how much I love and care about you."

Henry looked up at her and smiled slowly, and Emma could see the twinkle in his eyes that had made her lose her breath the first time he looked up at her with them. Since he found her, he had looked at her like she put the stars in the sky.

"You're a pretty good Savior," Henry said seriously, leaning into Emma so she could hug him.

"Gee, thanks kid," Emma said sarcastically, put her arm around him to take the hug.

"But I bet you never thought you'd be even better at being a Mom," Henry said, putting his arms around her stomach. Emma was still, taken aback at the simple statement. Slowly, she started moving and pushed his hair down and kissed the top of his head. Henry pulled back and looked up at her. "So... if you could actually time travel, you _seriously_ wouldn't change anything? You wouldn't take a perfect life with parents who love you more than anything in the whole world and growing up in a castle?"

"Nope," Emma said matter of factly. "I wouldn't even trade you for a castle."

Henry smiled gratefully. "But you do think about it? What your life could have been like?"

"Of course I do," Emma admitted. "If it's possible, even more so now that I know my parents. Every time Mary Margaret says or does something, I imagine what it would have been like to have grown up with those small gestures she's always doing that makes you feel like you're the most important person in the world."

"That's only with you Emma, because you _are_ the most important person in her world. At least, right now you are." Henry interrupted.

Emma ducked her head in embarrassment and shuffled his hair. "I don't know about that, kid. But I do think about it all the time. With Mary Margaret _and_ David."

"I think about it too," Henry admitted quietly. "Especially since I found you." Emma looked at him, her heart feeling like it was hanging on by strings in her chest. The rain had stopped, but she could still hear the dripping of the raindrops off the balcony. "I know it would have been too hard," Henry started with, "but maybe if we had had each other..."

"Henry," Emma said, moving to kneel in front of him. She held both of his hands tightly. "You have to know, there is not a day I don't think about my decision. There is not a single day when I don't wonder if I could have done it, and how our lives would be different. But if I learned anything from you," she smiled, "it's to believe in heroes. You are the person you are because I needed a hero. I know it should have been the opposite way around, that I should have saved you, but-"

"You had a whole lot of other people to save," Henry interrupted again and smiled. "I know. I think about it all the time, just like you, but I wouldn't change it either. Besides, I did grow up with my grandparents, even if they didn't know it. Well... my grandmother. Gramps was a little occupied in his comatose state."

Emma laughed and pulled Henry in again to hug him. When she pulled back, she held his shoulders and studied his face, amazed at the idea that it was the baby she had learned was growing inside of her in between jail room walls.

"You should talk to your dad," Emma said, holding out her hand for Henry to take it when he stood up. He took it and nodded.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?" Emma turned around in surprise.

"Don't lie to me anymore."

"Henry, I-"

"I know you're looking out for me. But lying is what Regina does. Not you. Please Emma?"

"Okay, kid. No more lying."


	2. I Miss You

A/N:

**Storyline: **Neal has returned to Storybrooke and Henry is spending most of his time with him and barely seeing his mom, until he realizes he misses spending time with Emma.

Shoutout to _maressaonce_ for the request! Thanks for the PM, and I hope you like it!

Any requests or prompts, leave it in a review or PM and I'll have 'em up and posted and soon as I can!

Enjoy!

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><p>"Hey slow down, kid. Where are you going? I've barely seen you all week. I thought we could spend the day together," Emma let her spoon drop in her cereal while Henry skidded his heels so he didn't crash into the counter.<p>

"Neal's picking me up," Henry explained. "He's taking me fishing!"

"Since when did you like fishing?" Emma pressed.

"Since my dad was teaching me," Henry answered simply. They still danced around the topic when it came to his father. Henry had told her he forgave her and she promised not to lie again, and still, it was too soon to talk about it freely or protest it.

"Okay," Emma surrendered, raising her hand up in defeat.

"Thanks Emma," Henry spit out before racing to the door. His backpack was practically falling off his shoulders, but he didn't dare take the time to fix it. When the door slammed behind Henry, Emma jumped a little in her seat.

"What's wrong?" Snow asked, clearing Emma's bowl full of milk but empty of cereal off the counter. In response, Emma plopped her head down on the space on the counter that was now open. "Yeah," Snow joked. "That's been on my mind too."

"It's nothing," Emma insisted, talking into the counter.

"You're jealous," her mom said raising her eyebrows matter-of-factly.

Emma sat up and rolled her eyes. "Don't you have somewhere to be? Saving the town or something?"

"It's okay to be jealous," her mom continued, ignoring Emma's question. "You've barely gotten to see Henry since Neal got here. He came out of nowhere and is taking time that you had with your son before. Not to mention it's someone who brings back a lot of confusing feelings for you."

Emma rolled her eyes so hard she, for a minute, thought they were about to get stuck in the back of her head.

"I'm leaving," she said, pushing her chair back.

"Don't forget," Snow called to Emma's back. "Your father and I will be out all night with the round table members."

"Oh yeah," Emma said. "Why wasn't I invited?"

"You were," Snow said flatly. "You said you'd rather stick a thousand toothpicks in your eyes one by one."

Emma laughed again at her own joke. "Oh, that's right. I do remember that now."

"Mhm," her mom gave her what Emma called the mom-stare when she looked back, and Emma was amazed that she could make her feel like such a small child with only a gaze.

"Don't rush home," Emma smiled and closed the apartment door before she had a chance to respond.

* * *

><p>"Do you feel any bite?" Neal asked. Henry could almost hear the hope in his voice. He echoed it with his own.<p>

"No, not yet," Henry answered. "How do you know when they're coming?"

"You'll feel it. Trust me, you'll know."

Henry yawned, placing his hand over his mouth, then quickly put his hand back on the fishing pole before he lost his handle on it.

"Something's pulling!"

"Okay, great! Hold tight, keep a firm grip! Yeah, exactly like that!" Neal instructed. "Now reel it in. Don't lose your grip."

Henry bit his tongue and tried to hold as tight as he could when he reeled it in. When the end of the line appeared above the water, Henry's eyes widened in surprise.

"I swear," Henry insisted. "I felt something."

"It's alright," Neal assured him. "It happens all the time. It's no big deal, really. The fish probably got off the hook somehow," he insisted, trying to be comforting.

Henry was so embarrassed he felt all the blood fly to his face. It was making it worse that his dad was being overly nice about it. He made a mistake, he was stupid, he sucks at fishing. Anything would have been better than the awkwardness of pretending none of that was true. He wished Emma was there, then, because she would have made a sarcastic comment and ruffled his hair a little and then he would have laughed and forgot how embarrassed he was.

"Yeah," Henry said, looking around to avoid eye contact. "Is it okay if we take a break for a little?"

"Yeah," Neal said, seemingly relieved. "Are you hungry? We could stop at the diner for lunch."

"Okay," Henry agreed. "I could eat."

Neal nodded, packing up the fishing gear. "Sorry this was kind of a bust. I expected it to be more exciting for some reason."

Henry nodded. "It was exciting," he said, then modified his statement when his dad raised his eyebrows at him. "Maybe next time we can, like, sword fight or something."

"You're into that?"

"Well it's in my blood, you know," Henry reminded him.

"Right." Neal nodded, slinging the blue bag full of bait, sunscreen, and other things on the list of what to bring when you take a kid fishing he found on the internet. "You know, I was thinking, you could learn a little bit more of the other side of your blood, if you wanted. My dad set me up in an apartment building he owns, and there's an extra bed if you ever want to stay in it sometimes."

Henry stared and felt his mouth go dry, he was so caught off guard. "Okay," he squeaked out, following Neal to the car. He sat in silence the entire ride, staring out the window.

"You okay, kid?" He asked pushing the gear shift into park, and the nickname reminded him of Emma.

"I don't feel good," Henry said suddenly, holding his stomach. "I think I'm going to throw up. And my head hurts. And my chest hurts, like I can't breathe."

"Oh shit," Neal let the words slip out, then looked down as if he could catch them and put them back. "I mean crap, uh, when did this happen?"

Henry shrugged and held his stomach tighter, bending over to show his pain. "Can you take me home tonight? I want my mom."

"Sure, yeah. We can hang out another time. I'll bring you to the Mayor's house."

"No!" Henry said too quickly. "I mean, I meant Emma. I wanna go to Emma's."

Neal looked at him suspiciously, then smiled a little. "Okay, kid. I'll call her and let her know we're coming."

* * *

><p>Emma stared at the papers on the Sheriff's desk. She had no reason to be here, there was really nothing she had to do. She didn't know where else to go, and she had wanted to get out of the house. She leafed her thumb through the stack, trying to decide what she felt like doing that would get her ahead for Monday. Really, nothing. She didn't feel like doing any of it right now.<p>

She hated to admit that she didn't want to go home to an empty house. Her, of all people. She used to love empty houses growing up. It meant no one was there to yell at her, or worse, beat on her. Ever since she came to Storybrooke, ever since she had a... family, she had to stop and mentally prepare herself to even think that word, being alone felt, well, felt lonely. As she considered her options between the empty loft and boring paperwork, her phone vibrated on the desk. Emma grabbed it after the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Emma."

"Neal? How's Henry? How was fishing?"

"He's good," Neal laughed. "Everything's good. He's not feeling so great now, though. He says his stomach and head hurts and that it feels like he can't breathe. I offered that he could start spending some nights with me, but he said he wanted to come home."

"He did?"

"Yes. He specifically used the words 'I want my mom. I want to go to Emma's.'"

Emma smiled into the phone. "You're there now?"

"We got here just as Mary Margaret and David were leaving, they let us in."

"I'm on my way now," Emma said, pushing the chair back and grabbing her coat.

* * *

><p>"I got you some water," Neal said helplessly, setting down the cup on the coffee table. Henry smiled and nodded, then sat up to take a sip.<p>

"You called Emma?"

"She should be here any minute," Neal promised. Henry only had time to nod before the door opened. Henry watched expectantly, and still felt happy excitement when he saw his mom close it behind her. She saw him within a matter of seconds.

"Kid, how'd you get sick so fast?! What's wrong?"

"My stomach hurts," Henry said quietly.

"If you're all set, I'm going to head out," Neal said, looking at Henry. Henry nodded to give him the okay, and Emma followed him to the door.

"He wasn't sick at all during the day? It just came out of nowhere?" Emma asked, her hand on the door to close it behind Neal.

Neal smiled like he telling a secret. "Honestly, Emma, I think he's... exaggerating his sickness a bit."

"Why would he do that? It's the weekend."

"You're right," Neal said, figuring she'd figure it out for herself. "Bye Henry," he called before leaving. Emma closed the door and walked back to the couch.

"How ya doin', kid?" She asked, scooting him over so she had a spot to sit. He smiled at her and scooted over happily, sitting up with the blanket around one of his shoulders.

"Better," Henry answered.

"What are you thinking?" Emma asked. "Soup and some movies?"

Henry nodded and laid back down in Emma's spot when she got up to move to the kitchen.

When Emma came back holding a tray with a bowl of soup and plain crackers arranged on it, she placed it down on the coffee table next to the half-full glass of water Neal had previous placed there. She picked up a cracker and took a bite of it.

"Eat up, kid. Don't want you starving to death," she joked, sitting on the chair this time, leaving Henry to have the couch to himself. Henry scooted further over to leave a bigger space.

"You can sit here," Henry offered. "I don't want to lay down."

Emma scrunched her eyebrows, then sat down on the couch next to him.

"What's up with you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just...today when we were fishing. I like spending time with my dad and all. I just wished you were there too."

Emma smiled and put one arm around him, squeezing him into a hug.

"I miss you too, kid."

Henry let his mom hug him, then let his head fall onto her lap.

"Let's watch Snow White," Henry suggested, getting a laugh out of his mom.

"No way, kid! No way!"

"It's your _heritage_!" Henry joke-argued. "It's like watching a movie made of your family tree!"

"No way! It's weird, Henry!"

"Fine. How about _The Shining?"_

Emma squeezed Henry's side, his most ticklish spot, causing him to contort his body in laughter.

"Okay, okay," Henry said, settling down when Emma stopped. He laid his head back down on her lap and stared at the ceiling. "Instead of a movie, you can tell me a story."

"What story?" Emma asked, looking down at him.

"Make one up. A good one."

"Henry, I don't kn-"

"I'm sick. Pleeeease Mom."

"That is so not fair," Emma said shaking her head, then sighed in defeat. She looked around the room for inspiration before beginning.

_Once upon a time..._


	3. Emma Ruth

**Storyline: **Set about a week or so after Mary Margaret and Emma return from the Enchanted Forest. Mary Margaret and Henry leave to give David and Emma some time to bond, where Emma asks David what her middle name was supposed to be. David explains the story of his mother.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, so, true. If I did I wouldn't be a poor college student.

**Note: **Leave your prompts or requests in the reviews! (If you wish, I happily welcome actual reviews of the story). Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Emma stared at the wall. She could hear Henry in the kitchen asking Mary Margaret and David if he could wake her up now.<p>

"She's had a long few days," Mary Margaret said in her normal soft, comforting voice. "Let her rest." Emma rolled over, annoyed. She was babying her. They both had a long few days. The exact same long few days, actually. Yet she was up and at 'em, but acting like Emma needed a month to recover. She threw her covers off and angrily stalked towards the kitchen.

"You're up!" Henry said happily.

"Yeah, kid, what's up?"

"Gramps was going to take me to play baseball."

"Baseball?" Emma raised an eyebrow and looked at both of them.

"I figured we could try," David said, then looked towards the window. "But the weather isn't really cooperating." At that, all four parties in the kitchen glanced to the pouring rain hitting the window. Henry looked somewhat defeated. Emma couldn't help but smile, not that he got his plans cancelled, but at how obviously excited he was to have those plans with David. They clearly shared a special bond from working together to get Mary Margaret and her back home. If not a little jealous, she was glad for it.

"Well," Mary Margaret said, breaking the silence. "I had a few errands to run today, all indoors. Would you mind coming with me, Henry?"

"On errands?" Henry said, skeptically.

"I have something special I want to show you," Mary Margaret winked at David, who smiled back. Henry looked both at them skeptically.

"I'll go get my bag. Do you wanna come Mom?"

Emma missed Henry more than she had ever missed anything, and wanted to spend every minute of her life with him, because she suddenly had to worry about falling into portals and alternate universes at any time and not seeing him again.

"I'd love to bud, but I'm kinda pooped. But maybe we can hang out later? Popcorn and movies?"

"Okay," Henry smiled, running past her to get his bag. He reappeared within moments with a backpack and a smile.

"Ready?" Mary Margaret asked, wrapping a scarf around her neck.

"Uh-huh," Henry answered, standing next to her. She put her arm around his shoulder, walking with him towards the door. "Bye Mom," Henry called backwards. "Have fun with Gramps!"

Emma looked up from her Fruit Loops as the door closed. She hadn't even thought about the fact that Henry going with Mary Margaret all day meant she'd be alone with David. She looked towards him, surprised that he was already staring at her.

"Hi?"

"Sorry," David said quickly. "I didn't mean to stare."

"Yeah, well..."

"It's just... I haven't really had time to... take you in."

"Take me in?" Emma laughed. "That sounds slightly creepy, David."

"Last time I saw you, I was putting a newborn into a magical wardrobe. Now you're this beautiful, grown adult. I just... I have trouble connecting the two in my mind."

Emma shifted from the uncomfortableness of David talking about holding her as a baby. It was a perfect stranger to her. To be honest, she had trouble connecting the idea herself.

"Yeah...," Emma said sarcastically. "You're not exactly who I pictured when I stayed home from all those father-daughter dances imagining my father. I thought you'd be... older. And slightly balding."

"Father-daughter dances?" David asked. Emma silently scolded herself for bringing it up.

"It's a stupid thing. It was a girl scout thing."

"Girl scout?"

Emma laughed. "Don't try to understand all at once. Your head might explode." Emma twirled her chair to step off it and bring her bowl to the sink. She thought about the different excuses she could use to get out of the apartment so she wasn't alone with David all day.

"David?" She said all of a sudden, surprising both him and herself.

"Yes?" He said eagerly.

"Mary Margaret... she chose the name Emma?"

David smiled. "Yes. She surprised me too with it."

"Sounds like her," Emma smiled reluctantly. She bit her lip and thought about if she was going to continue. "I know this is going to sound really stupid, but I've wondered my entire life. I was given the name Emma because of the blanket. And I got Swan from my the family I was with until I was three. I know it's not a big deal but I just always wanted to know when I was little. About having a middle name..."

"We talked about it after we saw Rumplestiltskin," David interrupted for her. "I was sure you were going to be a boy. Snow knew though," he smiled at the memory. "When she told Rumplestiltskin your name was going to be Emma, when we went home, as soon as we had a moments alone, I asked her about it. The more I thought about it though, the more you just became Emma. It was a no-brainer. I'll never forget what she said to me when I asked her about the name: 'for her middle name, I was thinking Ruth. But it's only fair if you get the final decision'. If you weren't already on your way then, you would have been after that night."

Emma actually had to shoot her hands up to her cheeks to cover the redness coloring them. She felt the heat falling into her palms from her face and couldn't get the picture out of her head. It was still too much to comprehend. It still seemed like a fairy tale, to have these same-aged people right in front of her be her parents, but hearing about them actually preparing for her by naming her and them participating in actual act of what created her existence was too much. Picturing them as adults when she wasn't born yet was oddly comforting. It made imagining them as her parents slightly easier.

"Sorry," David laughed. "Anyway, that was the decision. Emma Ruth."

"Ruth," Emma said, trying out the sound in her mouth. "Why Emma Ruth?" She asked, feeling weird hearing her own voice say her full name for the first time.

"That's a longer story," David said smiling. He got up to put his mug in the sink then instead of returning to his seat, moved to the couch. Emma watched him, then when he began speaking, sighed and walked over to sit down next to him. "Ruth was my mother. Your grandmother. She's the reason you were born."

Emma made a disgusted face, as if someone just opened up a sewer pipe in the apartment. "What did she set up the candles for you two or something?" Emma said, her face pinched.

At that, David let out a laugh straight from his stomach. "No," David said, trying to catch his breath from laughing. "Not like that. She sacrificed her own life so a curse my adopted father placed on Snow could be lifted. My adoptive father, King George, tricked Snow into drinking a potion that would make her unable to carry children."

"Oh shit," Emma said instinctively. "What kind of family tree do we have?"

David laughed again and put his arm around Emma's shoulder. "A weird one."

"No kidding," Emma said, shifting under David's arm. "I'm glad I know now, though," Emma said with sincerity and gratitude. "It's nice to know."

"I'll tell you anything you want to know about our family, Emma. But someday maybe you could tell us a little about your life too."

Emma shifted even more now, causing David to lower his arm off her now. She got up off the couch nervously.

"You don't want to know about that. It's too messed up. It doesn't really fit in with your views of the world."

"My views on the world?"

"The good always wins, happy-ending type of crap. My life... it wasn't like that. Nobody wants to hear an old-fashioned sob story. It's boring and useless."

"Emma, you can't honestly think that," David said, standing up to face Emma. "Nothing about your life is boring or useless. Your mother and I... we don't want to push you, but we'd love to hear anything about your life you'd be willing to tell us. Even the worst moments."

Emma swallowed, uncomfortable and awkward, but also unnaturally touched. No one had ever had such a genuine interest in her life, in who she was and how she became that way. For the first time, she thought about why she had always kept it to herself. She told herself it was because nobody cared, but all of a sudden a thought came out of nowhere. She didn't want to push people away with it. She didn't want them to be afraid of her and what she lived with.

"I'm sorry," was all Emma said.

David nodded. "If you ever want to talk, just know your mother and I are both here. I know this is hard for you, but there is nothing you could ever say that would make us love you any less."

And there it was. The sentence that Emma didn't know until she heard it, how much she wanted to hear it. She closed her eyes, looked up, and shifted her jaw, as if that would help her not cry. After a few moments, it did actually, and she could look at David again.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Emma said softly. She locked eyes with the framed 5x7 picture of her, Mary Margaret, David, and Henry, taken the day Mary Margaret and her returned. Henry was laughing at something, David was kissing Mary Margaret's cheek, and Mary Margaret was looking at Emma. Emma, looking squished in the middle, was the only one who was staring directly at the camera. "I have a family now," she whispered.


	4. Home Sick

**Storyline: **Set sometime in the second half of season 2 I'd say. Henry is sick and it's Emma's first time nursing him back to health. (And she's quite worried about it!) Thanks to _Guest_ reviewer for the request!

**Disclaimer: **You already know.

* * *

><p>"I can't go to school," Henry mumbled. "I don't feel good."<p>

"Come on, kid. I know all the tricks in the book. Get up."

"This isn't a trick, Emma. I'm sick!"

Emma rolled her eyes and pulled his covers off him. Henry curled his legs up and hugged them to his chest. Emma tilted her head, trying to decide if he was faking or not. She felt a pang of... what was it? Sadness? Guilt? She wasn't sure. _You should know if he's faking, you should know him better. You should know everything about him._

"Your mom is going to kill me if you miss any more school, kid." At this, Henry rolled over to face Emma.

"_You're_ my mom," he reminded her. The words struck her enough to stop and at least think about it.

"Try getting dressed. See how you feel."

Henry sighed, and Emma held her arm out to help Henry sit up. When he was sitting, she helped him to his feet.

"I don't feel so good," Henry said suddenly, bending over. His projectile vomit landed all over the floor and Emma's boots.

"Oh shit!" Emma said, jumping back.

"Sorry," Henry said, his cheeks burning up with embarrassment. Emma immediately felt bad for swearing.

"It's okay, kid. It's not your fault. Why don't you go take a shower? I'll clean your sheets for you."

Henry nodded, his eyes bloodshot from vomiting. Emma ruffled his hair a little as he wobbled out of his room. As soon as she was gone, Emma pinched her nose and ripped all the sheets off his bed and crumpled them into a ball. She walked downstairs with the ball of sheets in front of her face. Mary Margaret and David were both sipping coffee at the island in the kitchen.

"What's...uh, going on there, Em?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Henry's sick," Emma answered. "He puked."

"Yuck," Mary Margaret said in response.

"No kidding. David... you can handle things at the station, right? If I stay home for the day?"

"Of course," David answered.

"Do you have everything under control?" Mary Margaret asked.

Emma stared as if the question was absolutely ridiculous. "Under control? I don't even know how to take care of _myself_ when I'm sick. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. When I was sick as a kid the only thing I thought was important was staying out of the way until it finally passed on it's own." Emma looked up at both of her parents looking at her with those stupid, wide eyes and started back-trailing in her own mind. "I didn't mean it like that... I- I'm going to put this is the washing machine now."

"Do you need any help?"

"Um... medicine. He'll probably need medicine? Do we have that?"

"In the cabinet. Just read the box for how much to give him."

"Right. Okay." Emma nodded, stuffing the washing machine full of Henry's dirty

sheets. "He's supposed to eat like soup and stuff right? Like in the movies? Or is that just like a fake only-on-tv thing? I'm having some trouble distinguishing what's real nowadays."

Mary Margaret smiled and rubbed Emma's arm. "Soup and anything plain, like crackers. Try and get him to drink some ginger ale to settle his stomach."

"How do you know all this stuff?" Emma said, slightly in awe.

"I suppose 28 years teaching children in this world wasn't all for nothing. They sometimes get sick at school."

"Thanks," Emma said sincerely. At that moment, her attention turned to the bathroom door opening. Henry walked out completely covered in an oversized towel. He looked so... _little._ Emma smiled at his cuteness.

"My old clothes were covered in vomit. And I didn't bring any new ones into the bathroom," he explained.

"How ya feeling, bud?" Emma nodded and asked.

"Good. My throat hurts a little. I threw up again in the shower."

"I'm going to get you medicine. Do you think you can eat a little something?"

Henry shrugged.

"I'll bring it up to you, okay?"

Henry nodded and walked himself towards the stairs.

"Relax," Mary Margaret said comfortingly. "Henry is going to survive it and so are you. It will come naturally."

"I don't know about that," Emma countered, looking at the box the medicine bottle was in. "40-80 pounds? 80-100? 100+? How do I know what the kid weighs?!"

"Relax!" Mary Margaret laughed. "There's a chart for age too. Go by that."

"Thanks," Emma said sheepishly, quickly finding where the age column was.

"We're going to head out," Mary Margaret warned her. "But both David and I will be a phone call away if you need anything."

"Thanks." The bottle said not to eat on an empty stomach, but she doubted Henry wanted a big bowl of soup at seven in the morning. She figured dry toast would work, but there was no ginger ale in the refrigerator. She figured, again, water would be okay for now.

"Hey kid," Emma said, after knocking on the door and getting a come in from the other side.

"Hi," Henry said, pulling socks out of his drawer.

"I come with food and clean sheets."

"Thanks Emma," Henry said.

"You can swallow pills, right?"

"Yes."

"Well I assumed you couldn't and got you the chewables."

"Those are gross!"

Emma narrowed her eyes at him, and he surrendered. He chewed the grape flavored medicine like he was swallowing a bug while Emma put the sheets on his bed for him.

"It will help," Emma defended. "You'll feel better. Eat some toast with it."

"I'm not hungry."

"Maybe I should call Regina," Emma said suddenly. "She knows more about this stuff than I do. She did this your whole life."

"No! Don't! I'll help you. Please don't call her. She'll have me locked up in a clean room for a week if she finds out."

Emma looked at him and waited for him to admit to exaggerating, but he didn't. "Fine," Emma agreed. "I won't for now. But if you get worse, I really don't know what to do, kid. I'm not good at this. Last time you were sick you practically died in the hospital. I can't let it get that far again."

"I wasn't sick, Emma. I was _poisoned _with a sleeping curse. This is just a cold. Besides, I'm feeling better after throwing up."

"Okay," Emma agreed. "But you should rest. All day. Get in bed."

"Since when did you become such a dictator?" Henry asked, laughing at his own joke and at the same coughing.

"Since that."

"Okay," Henry said, pulling the blanket over him, "now you take my temperature."

"Right," Emma smiled. "I'll be right back."

Emma fumbled around the drawers in the kitchen before thinking logically enough to check the medicine cabinet. Finally, she found a white and blue baby thermometer in the back of the cabinet, and Emma soon realized it was from when Mary Margaret lived on her own. _Regina's got a sick sense of humor, _she thought.

By the time she made it back to Henry's room, a piece of the toast had been eaten, crusts left on the plate, and Henry was sound asleep. His cheeks hit the pillow at just the right angle to make them look chubby enough to be storing food away for winter. Emma felt her heart fill up so full in that moment that she forgot she had ever spent a moment of her life feeling alone.

Emma curled into bed next to Henry and put her hand on his forehead. She had seen it done so often before, but she always felt like she would never actually be able to tell what was normal and what was too warm. When she felt Henry's though, somehow she knew, it was all going to be alright.

"Mom?" Henry asked, squinting his eyes open just enough to see her through the cracks. "What are you doing?"

"I was checking your temperature."

"I'm going to get you sick," Henry pointed out at the same time he cuddled into her. Emma smiled at the gesture and kissed the top of his head.

"It's okay," Emma said, but Henry was already falling back asleep. "We'll take care of each other."


	5. I Miss You (Part 2)

**Storyline: **Part 2 to I Miss You. Henry recently realized, after spending a lot of time with his dad, that he missed Emma. When he comes home, he asks Emma to tell him a story.

Shoutout to _maressaonce,_ thanks for the request!

_Once upon a time, _Emma began, glancing down at Henry. _There was a girl and a boy. They only had each other in the world, and so they loved and looked out for each other._

"Was it you?" Henry asked.

"No. Are you going to let me tell the story or not?"

"Fine. Continue."

_The girl and the boy lived very, very boring lives. Their parents were dreadful, and they dreamed of getting away._

"So they're brother and sister?" Henry asked.

"Err... yeah. They're brother and sister. Are you going to keep interrupting me?" Emma asked, and Henry shook his head quickly.

_One night before they had the chance, their father dropped them off in the woods to abandon them. They were clever though, and to find their way back, they left a trail of breadcrumbs. But the birds ate the bread crumbs, and after wandering lost for a few days, they come across a house made of entirely of candy and sweets._

"Mom!" Henry said, sitting up. "That's the story of Hansel and Gretel. Did you think you I wouldn't notice?"

"I was hoping."

"Tell me a good one. One that I haven't heard before."

"Henry, I don't know any stories. I'm bad at this stuff."

"No one's bad at telling stories," Henry countered. "Just talk about what you know."

"I'm not sure I know anything."

"That's not true. Just think."

"Okay," Emma started. "Once upon a time there was a girl who lived all by herself."

"_This_ is about you?" Henry asked again.

"No. And if you interrupt me I'm not going to tell it," Emma warned and Henry pretended to close his mouth like a zipper. "Okay, so this girl. She lived by herself... on the top of a mountain."

"A mountain?" Henry questioned.

"Yes a mountain. She lived by herself on it because she was left there as a child. She was sixteen now, and had been surviving on the mountain by herself ever since. She did whatever she had to in order to survive. Then one day, she was sitting on top of the mountain, looking at life below her, and she started thinking. The thought occurred to her that all she had ever cared about was surviving; never living. She brushed it off and continued hunting and hiding to survive the harsh conditions of the mountain top. But the thought began to haunt her. Every morning when she woke up, and every night before she retired, it would came back to her. It planted herself in her brain, and the effort she put in to ignoring it became the soil that helped it grow. Soon she couldn't even focus on surviving anymore, because all she wanted to do was more. She stopped trying. She didn't even try to eat anymore, or hide, she figured that life was going to happen and she had no choice but to sit down and brave through it."

"So she was going to die?"

"Pretty much," Emma confirmed nodding. "Then one night, on perhaps the coldest night she had ever had to live through, she heard a noise. She wiped her eyes and stared into the darkness before she started searching around the top of the mountain for where it came from. She was sure it was an animal. That it was going to pounce out and be the final blow. She was ready to go."

"No! She has to fight back!"

"She didn't have the strength anymore. She was ready. But behind the bushes, it wasn't an animal. It was a person."

"Another person?"

"A boy who was left there too, just a little older than she was. 'What are you doing here?' she had asked him. 'Surviving,' he had answered. And that's when she knew."

"Knew WHAT?!"

"She knew what she had to do. 'Come on,' she said. 'I'll save you.' 'I don't need saving!' he answered. 'I can save myself.' She had said 'don't be stupid. We're in this together.' But he was having none of it."

"Why doesn't he want her help?"

"I'm getting there, kid! He didn't want to accept help because he had never known it before. Kind of like the color blorge."

"What the heck is the color blorge?" Henry asked.

"Exactly. The idea seems ridiculous to you, because you've never known it. That's what the idea of help was like to these two people who had survived their whole lives by being alone. So she looked at him and said 'Fine, don't come. But I'm getting off this mountain top.' He said 'how do you think you're going to do that?'

She looked at him, feeling more powerful than she had ever had in her life. Before, she was always the prey. She was hiding from the animals that could hurt her, or cold nights, or lack of food. Success to her was surviving unharmed through the people that could hurt her," Emma said, realizing her slip immediately. "I mean, the things that could hurt her. But when she met the boy, she realized that life was never going to get better unless she punched back. So for the first time, she stood up instead of laying down. She spent weeks gathering supplies to make a trail down to the bottom of the mountain."

"And the boy?" Henry asked. "He went too?"

"He went too," Emma smiled. "After some persuasion. Sometimes she carried him on her back when he got tired, and sometimes he carried her on his. But no matter what, they never fell again. Because they decided the only option anymore was to stand."

"So what happens in the end? When they make it off the mountain?"

"Well, they fell in love of course. Isn't that how all fairy tales go?" Emma asked, then added a second thought. "But something more important happened that day. The girl learned not to walk with a crutch, but stand for herself."

"And the girl," Henry said curiously. "Did she ever find her parents?"

"Her parents?" Emma asked, running through her mind to recall ever mentioning the girl's parents.

"Well they left her, didn't they? On the mountain top?"

"I didn't say that."

"But it's what happened, isn't it? You were the girl and my dad was the boy. And the mountain top was the foster system?"

Emma raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Kid, how did you come up with that?"

Henry shrugged. He didn't need an answer anyway, they both already knew. He put his arms around his mom's waist to give her a hug, feeling like she needed one. She, though surprised, reciprocated.

"It was a good story, Mom," Henry assured her. "You have a good story."


	6. Forgiveness

**Storyline:** Emma admits to her parents that she doesn't forgive them. Rewrite of the scene in 3x06 where they had to tell their secrets to free Neal. I always watched and wondered what it would have been like if Emma had to reveal something about how she feels about her parents and then I imagined a moment of Emma being open and honest about her feelings.

(Heads up- Thanks to jokermask18 for the request. The next one-shot posted will be of Emma and Henry swordfighting. I'll try and get it written and up as soon as possible! In the meantime, enjoy :))

**Note:** Leave your requests and prompts for stories in the reviews!

* * *

><p>The rocks shifted so deeply that Emma felt the world shake from under her. Or maybe that was the confession her mom had just made.<p>

_I want another baby. I want another go at it._

Emma couldn't help but feel something inside of her swell. She didn't blame her mother. She had missed ten years of Henry's life, too. What she felt was completely irrational, she knew that. She didn't know how to name it; sadness, maybe. Or jealousy. All she knew was she felt like she needed to run laps or something to escape what was bubbling underneath her own skin. Unfortunately there was nowhere to go.

"Emma..." Mary Margaret said, reaching for her arm. Emma turned it away, afraid that she would show much her mother's confession was getting to her.

She saw the bars restraining Neal dissipate at her mother's words, and after her father's devastating news and Hook's confession, she looked to Neal. He was standing now, traveling through the rocks to make it back to them.

"Emma!" Neal said, running to her and opening his arms. Emma collapsed, her senses completely overwhelmed with the familiarity of Neal's embrace.

"You're okay," Emma breathed. At that, a loud crashing sound fell over all of them. All of them stumbled for the balance, Mary Margaret falling into David, and Emma still in Neal's arms. She looked at Hook, who had caught himself before falling.

"What was that?" Emma said, standing up straight.

"I don't know," Hook said, walking towards where they came in. "It seems like the the exit has been... temporarily closed off."

"Temporarily closed off?" Emma asked. "What does that even mean?"

"The boulders fell."

"How is that possible?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Emma," Hook said gently. "I think it's your turn, love."

"No. There has to be another way." Emma began attacking the boulders tirelessly, but it was futile.

"Emma! Really?" Mary Margaret accused.

Emma continued trying to pull the boulder away, but the lack of movement became discouraging. Panting, she faced her parents, while Hook and Neal both stood on the side and waited.

"Fine. You want to know my secret? Here it is." Emma looked up before summoning the words she wanted. "I thought meeting my parents would be a lot different. It was always my _dream_ to finally meet them and have my life be some giant misunderstanding and find out that I was really wanted and loved this whole time," Emma started, and her parents both misunderstood and smiled at her confession, "but now that I have that... now that I have you guys in front of me... I- I realized that I don't forgive you."

At Emma's last sentence, the giant boulder dissolved into tiny pebbles, creating an opening to leave. Emma felt relief swim through her and stepped over the pebbles and towards the light. She could almost feel the shock and heartbreak of her parents behind her, but she didn't dare look back. She didn't have it in her. They would catch up with her soon enough.

* * *

><p>"Snow," David warned in a low tone, holding her arm. "Don't push her. She needs space."<p>

"No, David! She needs parents! Something we should have learned how to be three decades ago."

David bowed at that, because he didn't know what to say. He wanted more than anything to comfort Emma, to be there for Emma too, but he was scared of bombarding her. He envied his wife's fearlessness, the way her love for Emma gave her courage. Somehow the intensity of the love he felt for his daughter made him more cautious, more worried about making a mistake with her. Maybe because he didn't know her as well, he didn't know how far he could go. Deciding to take his chances, he followed Mary Margaret to the log Emma was sitting on.

"Hey," Mary Margaret said softly behind Emma. Emma turned and David noted the look of expected disappointment on her face.

"I don't want to talk," Emma said brusquely. "Not now. I just want to find Henry."

"We are going to find Henry," Mary Margaret insisted, sitting next to Emma. "And I want you to know that there is no rush to talk. I know it's a lot to take in. I- we- can't ask for your forgiveness right away. All we can do is explain the best we can and hope you understand."

"That's the thing," Emma said, suddenly angry. "I do understand. I understand the circumstances you were in and that there was no good decision or whatever and that you had to save everyone. I understand completely and I'm still so... so _angry."_

"That's understandable, Emma," David tried to sympathize. "You have every right to however you feel."

"You guys are not _understanding. _I am angry, maybe even angrier than I've ever been in my life and I don't know why. Maybe it's because I know you now, and I actually... _like_ you guys. Now that I know I could have had this amazing life with these crazy loving parents I'm just _angry,_ in every sense of the word, and I don't know if I'll ever get over it. I don't know if I can get over what my life was when I know what it could have been," Emma said, watching Mary Margaret and David's faces carefully when she finished, realizing she felt like a weight had been lifted off her just by admitting that. She couldn't read their emotions, and she was really good at reading emotions. Both of them were stone-faced, maybe at best, shocked. "When I was little," Emma said, giving a fake laugh at the patheticness of the own story she was about to tell. "I used to dream up all these fantasies about my parents. But the one I always came back to was probably the saddest one," Emma shook her head, regretting starting the story now that she had to finish. "When I was little, for years I imagined this scenario, that I was mixed up at the hospital and they gave me to the wrong parents. The fake ones realized I wasn't there real baby and left me on the side of the road. My whole life I imagined my real parents, the ones who loved me, out there looking for me. I kept waiting for them to come save me."

"I'm so sorry," Mary Margaret reached for Emma's hand, and Emma thought about it for a minute before deciding not to yank it away. Tears were spilling out of her mother's eyes. "I would have given up everything to have been able to come and find you. I would have done anything to have been able to save you," she promised.

"I never imagined my life as some prophecy where the roles were reversed," Emma joked to lighten the situation, but as soon as the words were spoken all three of them realized the truth in them that seemed to be weighing them down. "I'm sorry," Emma said suddenly. "I'm sorry I can't forgive you."

Mary Margaret said nothing but engulfed her in a hug, in which Emma allowed but didn't reciprocate. David, sitting on the other side of the log, wrapped his arms around Mary Margaret, squishing Emma in between them.

"I know you wanted to give me my best chance," Emma said, her voice cracking. "And now that I have you guys in front of me, it's what I always wanted. You guys are the best case scenario I ever imagined my parents being," Emma said sincerely. "I just need more time. I needed you so many times growing up, so many moments in my life, and no one was there. I can't just get over the turmoil I was in growing up and not knowing why I wasn't with my parents. But I don't want to lose you guys now. I just need more time. Please. Just let me have a little more time to process everything. Mom... Dad, don't give up on me yet," Emma begged, her hands shaking.

"Oh Emma," her mom breathed, bringing her back into a hug. "Never."

"We're here for good, Emma," David assured her, putting his arm around them as they hugged. "You couldn't get rid of us even if you tried," he promised her, squeezing them a little tighter.


	7. Sword Fighting

**Storyline: **Short one-shot of Emma and Henry swordfighting. Set immediately after S3 finale. (Without Elsa or premonitions of S4) Shoutout to jokermask18 for the request!

**Note: **Review with a prompt or request for a one-shot :)

* * *

><p>"I want to swordfight." Henry said, walking around Gold's shop.<p>

"Swordfight? You're kidding me."

"You said today we could do anything I wanted," Henry pleaded. "Don't you want to spend _time_ with me?" Henry asked, knowing it was a sore spot. Today was the day Emma had promised since they got home from Neverland. Before New York, even. Everything had been so touch and go with Zelena, but his uncle had just been born and his grandparents were consumed in baby Neal. Emma had promised Henry a day doing whatever he wanted. "Neal had promised," Henry started, looking down. "He was teaching me."

"Oh kid," Emma said sympathetically, knowing immediately she was done for. Henry smiled in triumph.

"Why don't you take this, Emma?" Henry asked. "It's your dad's. Why are you leaving it here?"

"I don't know," Emma said honestly. "I haven't thought of it. But we are definitely not using real swords if we fight though," Emma said, trying to make the conversation lighter.

"Obviously," Henry said. "I have wooden ones at home. From practicing with David and my dad."

"Okay," Emma sighed, wishing she had an excuse not to.

"You should take this though," Henry insisted, looking at the real sword lain in the velvet case. "Even if it's not for you. I bet your dad would be really happy if you surprised him with it and brought it back for him."

"I'll think about it," Emma said, begrudgingly. "Are we going to get those wooden swords or what?"

"Yes!"

Emma started towards the door, but then looked back towards the sword. As discreetly as she tried to be, Henry noticed.

"It's the one," Henry said, watching Emma. "He fought off guards with it right after you were born with you in his other hand."

Emma broke out of her gaze to look at Henry and raised her eyebrows. She looked like she was sinking again, back into her own thoughts. "So I've heard."

"Let's go Mom," Henry offered, holding her hand and pulling her towards the door. Emma took it gratefully.

* * *

><p>"I can teach you," Henry offered, placing the wooden sword in Emma's hands.<p>

"Hey! I'm not inept. How hard can it be to fight a twelve year old?"

"Well considering I have practice and you're like, from the city. I think I have the advantage," Henry mused. With a swing, he knocked the sword out of his mom's hand.

"What was that?" Emma jumped, genuinely shocked. She stared at the sword fallen in the blades of grass and Henry's pleased expression.

"Don't ever let your guard down! It's rule number ONE!"

"I'm going to pick it up now off the ground...," Emma said slowly. "Should I be worried about you attacking me from behind?"

"That wouldn't be fair," Henry explained.

"Right." Emma said it sarcastically, and watched her son. He stood with his knees bent, in the defense position. Emma suddenly felt a mix of happiness and grief thinking about the fact that the last time he did it was in this field with Neal. Emma mimicked his position and bent her knees, waiting for Henry to make the first move.

"Hah-yah!" Henry said, moving his sword towards Emma. Instinctively, she moved hers to block his. Despite her better judgement, she felt a rush during it. In response, she swung hers, causing Henry to step backwards. They battled back and forth, mostly clinking swords in front of them. Emma eventually backed Henry into standing on a picnic table, which only was an advantage to him as they met at eye level.

"You're not that bad at this," Henry panted, holding his sword up.

"You're not so bad yourself," Emma said, going back to the defensive position.

"Well, it _does_ run in your blood. Which means it runs in _my_ blood." Henry beamed, pointing to his chest, as if being a part of his family was the biggest source of pride he had.

"You know, there's probably some proper technique or something we haven't learned," Emma suggested lightly.

Henry raised his eyebrows. "In real sword-fighting the technique is to stay alive. Don't overcomplicate it. Do you honestly think David was thinking about the right angle to hold his arm when he fought with a _BABY_ in his hand?"

"Henry, you talk about that fight like he's your hero for it," Emma joked, but at Henry's face, realized she wasn't totally off the mark.

"I want to save someone someday," Henry said sadly, letting his arm holding his sword fall to his side. "Really save someone. The way David saved you. Not like giving your heart to your evil step grandpa."

"Is that why you wanted to practice sword fighting?" Emma asked, following Henry's lead and letting her arm fall to her side. At his absence of a response, she continued. "Oh, kid. You have no idea."

"No idea about what?"

"You saved everyone the moment you decided to borrow Mary Margaret's credit card to come find me. But," Emma warned, "if you ever pull a stunt like that again, you'll be locked in your room until you're 40."

"Got it," Henry smiled lifting his sword up quickly and knocking the sword in Emma's hand back onto the grass. Emma's mouth opened in shock.

"Really, kid?" Emma asked, looking just as surprised as the first time. Henry beamed, making Emma shake her head and pick up the wooden sword off the ground. "You're pushing it," she warned, but she couldn't do it without smiling. She bent her knees again in the starting position, again ready to fight for Henry.


	8. Aim and Shoot

**Storyline: **Set around 3x12. Emma got her memories back but hasn't returned to Storybrooke yet, and decides Henry needs to be able to protect himself when they do. Thanks to _snoopykid_ for the request!

**Note: **This was a bit challenging for me (but I do love challenges) as I know nothing about guns and shooting or the proper techinique or safety measures to be taken. I had to look up some information, but please forgive me if I was mistaken in any of the technical aspects.

Review with a prompt or request for a one-shot. All of them will be completed eventually.

* * *

><p>"Tell me you're kidding," Henry said, following his mom to the streets of New York. He watched her wave down a taxi, then followed her into the backseat.<p>

"Does it seem like I'm kidding?" Emma asked. Henry stared at his mom in astonishment. Ever since that guy had showed up at their door, his mom had been acting different. Strange, different. She had promised nothing was wrong, nothing was changing, but things were changing. She said they had to take a trip back to an old town she knows, but they'd be back as soon as possible. I mean, Henry wasn't mad about it. He got to miss school for no reason. He was just _confused. _

And now, out of nowhere, his mom wanted to teach him how to shoot a gun. A real gun. His mom didn't even let him use knives on his own. He practically had to set up a powerpoint presentation to convince her a year ago that he could cut his _own _steak. His entire life, she had hated seeing him grow up. And now, all of a sudden, this guy in a pirate's costume shows up at their door and now she wants to teach him how to shoot a gun and take care of himself.

"Why won't you tell me what's going on?" Henry whined, hating the sound of his own voice from it.

"Do you trust me?" Emma asked.

"Mom, what does that even mean? Of course I do."

"Then just... trust me on this. Okay?"

Henry nodded and stayed silent for the rest of the ride to the range.

* * *

><p>She had her memories back. Despite how much she wished she didn't, she did. And despite how much she wished she could ignore them, they swallowed all her other thoughts like an animal hunting prey. Remembering she had parents was like finding them all over again, adjusting all over again. She tried to wrap her head around the time frame. It had been a year of real time.<p>

That meant all her memories with Henry were fake. She gave him up for adoption, he had been raised by the person who put an evil curse on an entire town of people. She felt a mix of emotions over knowing she had parents, real, good, parents, but she was positively heartbroken over the 10 years with Henry she didn't have. More than anything, she wanted Henry to have those years in his memory, fake or not. That's why she had thought about it. She wasn't proud of it, but she had thought about it. Ignoring Hook's warnings. She thought about letting them take it on for themselves. It wasn't her job anymore; she broke the curse. Let them deal with it, she had thought.

But even when she thought them, she knew she couldn't really do it. No, she would return home. But she would bring Henry back as soon as possible. She would tell him as little as she could, and then they would live their normal life in New York again. But if Emma was going to bring Henry back to Cursed Murder Capital, Storybrooke, Me, even for a day, she was going to bring him back prepared. And that is why she believed Henry could use the self-defense of being able to shoot a gun.

"Try this on," Emma said, holding up sound-protectors to put over his head. Henry still looked completely confused, but listened to his mother's request. Though it looked too big for his head in comparison, it was the right fit.

"What am I going to shoot with?" Henry yelled. Emma laughed, her sound protectors still not on.

"A semi-automatic. The one I have for work."

"When did you learn?" Henry yelled again, and this time Emma pulled his sound-protectors down to around his neck when she laughed.

"I was around your age," Emma lied. "I didn't get proper training though. I was put in a situation where I didn't have a choice if I wanted to survive. I wish someone had showed me before that happened," Emma confessed, this time being completely truthful. Henry nodded in understanding, knowing Mom's Past was a fuzzy topic too heartbreaking and sad to be talked about casually.

"Here," Emma said, handing Henry a pair of safety goggles. "No matter what, you do not take either of these off when we go in there. If you're dying, you keep these on until we leave the actual shooting range. Do you understand?"

"Understood." Henry nodded. Emma put on her safety gear and followed Henry into the shooting area.

"Always keep it downrange when you're not shooting," Emma instructed. "Especially when you flick the safety off."

Henry complied, keeping the front of the barrel towards the floor. Emma suddenly had second thoughts about the whole idea when she saw a gun in her twelve year old sons hand, but convinced herself it was necessary. It was better for him to learn properly, and hope that he'll never have to use it.

"Check to see if it's loaded. Remove the the clip and pull the slide back to look in the chamber."

"It's loaded," Henry said expectantly, because they both knew it already was, looking at the shell in the chamber.

"Okay," Emma nodded. "_Carefully _pick up your gun, keep your fingers outside the trigger guard, extended straight. Never, _never, _point your gun at someone. Even as a joke."

"Obviously, Mom," Henry said, rolling his eyes.

"I mean it, kid! Even if it's unloaded. It's a crime in some places. So don't do it."

"I got it."

"Alright," Emma sighed. "Alright, hold it in your dominant hand and use your non-dominant hand to cradle. Keep your hands steady, no shaking," Emma warned, watching Henry's shaking hands.

"Sorry," Henry mumbled. The shaking in his hands slowed until they started to steady.

"Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart. Put your left foot in front. Make sure you feel steady, and aim. It's easiest if you focus with your dominant eye and close the other one." Emma advised, watching Henry struggle to close his left eye only. "Okay, this is the most important part. It's okay if your target is a little fuzzy, just make sure your focus on the front sight of the barrel is 100%. It should just be just slightly below the target point of impact."

A large booming sound sounded in the range, causing Emma to jump back with all her safety gear on.

"Henry!" Emma yelled. "What the hell was that?"

"I was ready. What happened?" Henry asked, looking at the target, still fresh from any evidence of shots.

"No you weren't!" Emma screamed. "Are you crazy? You don't shoot a gun like that before I tell you it's okay! I wasn't done explaining!"

"Nothing happened!" Henry raised his voice in defense, and partially asking.

"That's because it was an empty shell! Did you really think I would let you fire a loaded gun on your first try? And it's a good thing I didn't! I thought I could trust you, Henry!"

"Mom, will you relax? Nothing happened!"

"No! Someone could have gotten hurt!"

"No they couldn't have, the gun wasn't loaded," Henry reminded her.

"That's not the point, Henry!"

"Why is this such a big deal?" Henry demanded.

"Because you need to be able to protect yourself!"

"From what?"

At this question, Emma sighed and looked up, trying to think of how to respond. From what? She wasn't sure exactly.

"We're going to try this again," Emma said in response. "This time, wait until I'm done explaining. Get back into position."

Henry, looking like a mix of defeat and anger, got back into the position of aiming the gun and standing with his left foot in front him.

"Control your breathing," Emma instructed. "The best shot comes directly after exhaling. Are you ready? Click the safety off and put your finger on the trigger. Don't push it too fast, it will throw off your aim. Just pretend you're in a business handshake adding a little pressure to a handshake. Make sure you follow through. Don't drop your stance or release the trigger immediately. Take a breath first, then you can release it. Okay, go ahead," Emma said, pulling the bullets out of protective jacket. "Load it, and take a shot."

Henry, once confident enough to pull the trigger before his mom gave him the okay, suddenly swallowed with nervousness. He nodded, taking it out of her hand. He fished through his mind to try and remember everything his mom said, but his thoughts kind of felt like cereal when it got all mushy after sitting in the milk too long.

He added pressure to the trigger and stared at the front side. He could feel sweat trickling down his temples. The noise and force made him jump back and stumble over his own feet. Embarrassed, he waited for his mom's reaction.

"Not bad, kid," she said, staring at the target. Henry followed her eyes to the hole he created. In the body shaped target, there was a spot in the middle of the chest.


	9. Hero

**Storyline:** Flashback of Henry having a dream pre-series about Emma saving him from the Evil Queen, then present day AU of Emma and Henry getting trapped in Oz and fighting off Zelena, where Emma saves him again. Shoutout to _jokermask18_ for the amazingly detailed request! I really hope that it's what you imagined or close to it, or if not, I hope you can at least enjoy it!

**Note:** While writing this, I realized how little knowledge I had about Wizard of Oz, and I was sort of trying to mix the classic with the OUAT version, so I hope I don't offend anyone with this version, and again, please forgive me for any missteps.

Review with a request or prompt. All will be completed. :)

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><p><strong>Storybrooke, Me (two years ago)<strong>

_It was choking him. The smoke burned his throat, and he thought this was it. This was the end. He didn't know how or why, but someone was trying to kill him. And he was slowly burning._

_Then the fire was gone. Just like that. He was in a clear field, and he could suddenly see. It was his mom. His mom! Was she coming to save him? _

"_Mom!" He called, his voice aching. "Mom! I'm right here!"_

_She wasn't listening though. She was laughing. Then the fire was around him again, and everything was going up in flames. _

"_Help me!" He yelled. "Someone help me, please! My mom is trying to kill me!" As soon as he said the words, he felt like he was crumbling in fear. No, no! She wouldn't hurt me! But it wasn't his mom. Not the one he knew, at least. Her face looked like his mom, but she was dressed in all black, her hair was long and stuck high on her head. Henry knew it was the Evil Queen. Henry knew he had no choice but to run, to run as far away as he could. He lifted his legs to move, to go forward, but he was still in the same spot. He could have sworn he was running. But still he stayed. The fire was getting warmer now, closer. He could feel the heat dancing around on his skin, as if it was teasing him. We're almost there, Henry, that's what the fire would say if it could speak. He could see his mom, the Evil Queen, he could see her laughing with her hands up._

"_Mom, please! Stop the fire!"_

_As soon as he said the words, he shivered. He was freezing. Where was he? He looked around, the same field, the same spot, he hadn't moved. The fire was gone, and all he could feel was the cold air surrounding him. _

"_We don't have much time," she said. "Let's go."_

"_Who... who are you?"_

"_Henry! Are you listening to me? We don't have much time."_

_He stared at the stranger, trying to familiarize himself with her features. He wasn't sure if he'd ever seen her before, but he felt like he knew her. He knew her somehow._

"_You stopped the fire."_

"_You asked me to," she replied simply._

_Henry scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. He tried to run through everything he had said. He yelled for his mom, he had begged her to stop the fire._

"_I like your jacket," Henry said, taking the hand she held out to offer him. _

"_Thanks, kid."_

"_You saved me." Henry marveled at the stranger. "You saved me from the Evil Queen."_

_The stranger shrugged in response, clearly shy of her hero status._

"_You're a hero," Henry said in total adoration of the blonde woman. "W-what's your name?"_

Henry woke up, covered in sweat, his blankets on the floor. He looked around to his bedroom. The walls were familiar, he knew the desk, his bed. He knew exactly what was on the other side of his door. His mom was down the hall, his mom, not the Evil Queen. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was all just a dream. A silly dream. Still, he stuck his tongue out and stretched to reach under his bed. Pulling out his big brown book from Miss Blanchard, he flipped rapidly through the pages, almost bending them on the way. Finally he got to the page he was looking for, and he stared at the picture for a long time, studying the tiny white blanket.

"Emma." Henry whispered into the air. He was going to find her.

**Land of Oz (present day)**

"Mom, please! Stop the fire!" Henry yelled, holding his arm over his forehead.

"I'm _trying, _Henry!" Emma yelled, desperate for her magic to work. Anger, she thought. Think of what makes you angry. But suddenly all she was filled with was fear.

"You saved me from this before, Mom. You can do it again."

Emma looked at Henry like he had three heads. "Are the flames getting to you, kid?"

"No! You did! It was just.. in a dream. You saved me from the Evil Queen."

"Henry! That was a _dream. _This is _real life_."

"You can do it, Mom. Please."

Emma sighed and closed her eyes, then focused on the thought of the ten years she missed with Henry. It was the only thing that always made her swell with emotion. Without warning, she felt a coldness wash over her and shivered. When she opened her eyes, the fire was gone, and she was only in the cold air.

"You did it again! Mom you did it!"

"Yeah, yeah," Emma said, sheepishly. "Let's go home, okay?"

"What about Zelena?" Henry asked.

"All I care about is _you, _Henry. I want to get _you_ home safe. It's not our job to protect Oz."

"But you're the-"

"Hero, yeah I got it. We still need to go home. Unfortunately for you, I'm the parent."

Henry shook his head, but with a small shove from Emma, started walking. Both of them were still shivering from adjusting again to the cold air.

"So, it's like the yellow brick road or something, right? To get home?" Emma asked, breaking the silence.

"To get to the wizard," Henry corrected.

"Right. Of course." Emma rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile. She let Henry walk slightly in front of her so she could keep an eye on him at all times, still scared that Zelena would come up out of nowhere. She was thinking about what she would do if Zelena showed up on the yellow brick road, when she walked into the back of someone who smelled like farmland and cotton.

"Oh! Sorry!"

"No, sorry," Emma mumbled, embarrassed. "It was my fault." Emma looked the stranger up and down, noting her two braids and blue and white plaid dress. Her shoes were the brightest of all, shimmering red and glitter. "Oh my god..."

"Hi," the girl said cheerily. "My name is Dorothy. This is my friend, the scarecrow, he's looking for a brain, and the cowardly lion, he's looking for his courage."

"And I'm the Tin Man," the metal contraption next to her squeaked. "I'm looking for a heart."

"Oh my god..." Emma repeated.

"I'm Henry!" Henry chirped. "Are you in search of the wizard?"

"Yes!" Dorothy said enthusiastically. "Glinda told me he could help me find my way home."

"You know your shoes-," Emma started, staring at Dorothy's feet, but was stopped by Henry elbowing her hard in the stomach and shaking his head.

"Ow, kid!"

"This is my mom," Henry introduced. "Her name is Emma. She was born in the Enchanted Forest."

"I'm sorry," Dorothy said embarrassed. "I'm unfamiliar with all these lands. I'm from Kansas."

"Me too," Emma said. "I'm from Boston, Massachusetts."

"I thought you said...?" Dorothy asked, looking at Henry.

"It's a long story," he explained. "We're looking for the wizard, too. Can we join you guys?"

"Of course!" Dorothy said. "Glinda said to just follow the yellow brick road and we'll find our way there."

"So I've heard," Emma mumbled under her breath.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Uh. We're trying to get home too. Do you know if we're almost there?"

"Well, I sure hope so! My knees are getting rusty!" The tin-man got a giggle out of almost everyone. Almost. Emma was staring blankly.

Emma, aged 29, was on the brink of having a midlife crisis. This cannot be real, she thought, walking along her son and these story book characters. She remembered watching cartoons when she was little where real people fell into the story books with some crappy animation effect. She wondered if it was like that. Was she in real time? Or was time stopped while she was stuck in a story book? She wasn't sure which one felt more plausible.

"Hey kid, how are you doing?" Emma asked, realizing they had been walking for a while and Emma had gotten lost in the idea of what her life had come to.

"A little tired," Henry admitted, looking back at Emma. She gave him a sympathetic half-smile.

"I think we are here!" Dorothy exclaimed, her eyes gleaming at the bright light in front of him. Emma looked, and she could see why Dorothy would think that. It was almost blinding green lights. At the end of the brick road there was a door, with two guards standing with the swords crossed, blocking any entrance.

"Aw, shit," Emma groaned, but no one else seemed off-put by it.

"I'm Dorothy," Dorothy explained to the guards eagerly. "I was sent here by the Good Witch of the North!"

The guards looked at each other, then nodded towards Emma and Henry.

"They're my friends," she explained. "They're safe." The guards looked at each other and shrugged, then put their swords straight up so they could cross. Emma watched in amazement at how easy that was.

Inside the doors was a giant green circle, where Dorothy and her three friends stepped up eagerly. Henry went to follow them, but was stopped by Emma's tug on his arm.

"Stay," she ordered. "Don't get too close."

"Seriously?" He asked.

"Seriously."

Henry gritted his teeth but planted his feet, and Emma joined Dorothy, the scarecrow, and the tinman on the green circle. Only the cowardly lion stayed back with Henry.

"I've been expecting you!" came a booming voice from all over. Emma jumped and stuck her hands out in defense, until a giant shadow appeared in front of them.

"How?" Emma yelled.

"I am Oz. I see all. I know all!"

"Ok, Mr. Know It All, can you help me and my son get home? And this one," Emma said, nodding towards Dorothy.

An evil laugh came from behind the curtain, and flames lit up in rows in front of it. Emma curled her upper lip and bobbed her head back, clearly offended. All of a sudden, the giant curtain fell, revealing a man in a green suit in front of a voice box.

"All power has it's limits," Zelena laughed, holding her arm out as evidence of the curtain she recently dropped. At the sight of her, Emma made a run for Henry, but she was pushed back with the flick of a finger.

"Henry!" Emma called.

"Mom!" Henry yelled back, but he was already tied up against the wall with restraints that seemed to come out of thin air. They curled around his body, slowly squeezing the life out of him. "Mom!" Henry called again, his voice weaker.

"The Wicked Witch!" Dorothy gasped. "What do you want?"

"Well, my sister's shoes, of course," Zelena said simply, looking down at Dorothy's feet.

"You're doing this all for shoes?" Emma asked dumbly, standing up from her crash against the wall. As soon as she started running for Henry, she was smashed against it again. This time she felt a crack as her head hit the wall.

"Not just shoes, _those_ shoes. Those are the shoes that can bring you anywhere in the world. Even back in time."

"Back in time?" Dorothy asked, shaking in the red slippers.

"I'm going to stop my mother from ever abandoning me," Zelena explained. "I'm going to rewrite the past, and I'm going to do it with those shoes."

While Zelena distracted herself with her own monologue, Emma rushed back to Henry. She was staring at the restraints that seemed to be coming out the wall and squeezing him. She had no idea how to get him free.

"Step back from him, or I'll kill him now," Zelena warned, squeezing it around him a little tighter. Henry let out a little choke, as if he was confirming her threat.

"You're evil." Emma growled, her voice low.

"Not evil, dear," Zelena smiled. "Wicked."

"Mom," Henry choked. "You can save me. I know you can."

"Don't you worry, Henry," Emma assured him, even though she was pretty worried herself. "I'm going to get you free."

"You saved me before. You saved me from fire. Do it again."

"What does that even mean? There's no fire, Henry!" Emma asked urgently, but Zelena squeezed it around him until Henry passed out. At the sight of seeing him unconscious, Emma felt her heart stop in her chest. He had to be unconscious. That was all. She could save him, she could save him. She couldn't let herself think of anything else.

_You saved me before. You saved me from fire. Do it again._

That made no sense, Henry! She watched Zelena approaching Dorothy, watched the tin man and scarecrow defend their friend so selflessly. Save him from fire.

Save him from fire.

She clenched her teeth and tried to focus. _Save him from fire. _

With all her energy into the idea of fire, she was surprised at the coolness when it started to hit her shoulders and the top of her head. She looked up, realizing she created clouds in the room, and rain was falling from them. She had never done anything even close to that before, but then again, she had never needed it before.

"What is this?" Zelena said, the rain burning her skin like acid as it hit her. "I'm... MELTING?!"

Emma stared with her mouth at her knees, surprised that she didn't think of it sooner. Of course, it was the Wicked Witch. Of course Henry knew. He was the Truest Believer. When she looked over, the restraints were lifting as Zelena melted, and Henry slid down the wall, freely, and landed on his butt.

"Henry!" Emma yelled, running over to cradle him in her arms. _This needs to stop_, she thought. _This always fighting for each other thing. _"You're okay," she said, as if saying it out loud would actually make it real, holding his face, then arms, making sure he was all there.

"You saved me," Henry said in awe. "Again."

Emma breathed in relief at the sound of his voice, same old Henry, then pushed his head towards her so she could kiss the top of it.

"You're crying," Henry noted.

"I thought I was going to lose you. You weren't scared?"

"No," Henry said honestly. "I'm never scared when I'm with you. You're my hero. You'll always save me."


	10. Believe In Me

**Storyline: **Mini added scene from 1x05 when Henry knocks on Emma's door crying. Emma comforts Henry before going to Archie's office. Thanks _maressaonce _for the request!

**Note:** Review with a request or prompt for a one-shot :)

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><p>"You're smart. You know not to get involved with a married guy. It's not worth the heartache," Emma advised. "Trust me."<p>

Mary Margaret nodded, swallowing her homemade s'more. If she couldn't have David, she could at least have chocolate. Both jumped at the knock on the door.

"I'll get it," Emma said, pushing herself off the counter and jumping to the ground. She opened the door and had to adjust her eyes downward, something she had been getting used to since the first time Henry knocked on her door in Boston. "Kid," Emma said, taking Henry's devastated face in. "What happened?"

Henry didn't respond, but squeezed his face to stop more tears from coming out. Emma held out her arm and let him in.

"I... just.. met... with... Archie," Henry explained with shallow breaths. "He doesn't... believe... me."

"Oh kid," Emma said, rubbing Henry's back. He dropped his bag on the ground and was sitting in the spot Emma had been in previously across from Mary Margaret, while Emma placed herself next to him.

"Are you hungry, Henry?" Mary Margaret offered sweetly. She held the plate out with the second s'more and Henry looked at it for a minute, as if he was thinking about it, then nodded and took it. He swallowed in between sobs, and Emma and Mary Margaret both tried their hardest not to laugh at the sight of him. Finally, when he finished his s'more and the milk Mary Margaret put in front of him, he had calmed down enough to speak. He looked at Emma, who was absentmindedly rubbing circles on his back.

"Archie said he was going to have to lock me up," Henry said, tears pricking at his eyes again, fresh and new. "He doesn't believe me!"

"Nobody is locking you up, Henry," Emma said. "And I'm the deputy now, so I can make sure of that."

Henry's chest heaved up and down when he remembered his conversation with his therapist. He trusted him, he was the only person who believed him. He knew Emma didn't believe him yet, but she was the hero, she was supposed to doubt him still. But he thought Archie was on his side.

"Henry, Dr. Hopper was wrong for what he said to you," Mary Margaret assured him from the other side of the counter.

"He was dead wrong," Emma agreed, somewhat angrily.

"So you believe me?" Henry turned to his mom and asked hopefully.

"That's not the point."

Henry looked back at his empty plate, staring at the crumbs from the graham cracker. He was trying to hold back tears again. Mary Margaret raised her eyebrows at Emma, and Emma gave her an I'm-at-a-loss look before speaking.

"Henry," Emma started. "Do you remember when you first showed up at my door in Boston?"

Henry wiped his eyes and looked at Emma, interested in where the story was going. He nodded for a response.

"Do you remember what you said when I said I was going to call the cops?"

"That I would tell them you kidnapped me," he answered, giggling a little at the memory. His mom was a tough sell.

"And what did I tell you?"

Henry thought for a moment, remembering. "You said there wasn't much you were good at it, but you had a superpower. You could tell when anyone was lying."

"Right. And I'm never wrong. That's why I know you're not lying."

"You do?" Henry sniffed.

"You believe what you're saying, and that's the truth," Emma offered. Henry nodded, taking it, finally feeling like he didn't need to cry anymore.

"Can I have some more milk?" He asked, turning towards Mary Margaret, who smiled and turned to get the carton out of the refrigerator.

"You feeling any better, kid?" Emma asked.

"A little," Henry admitted, because he had ideas swimming through his mind. He was going to prove to Emma that she could believe in him, and he was going to prove to Archie that he was wrong. Now he knew Emma would make sure he wasn't going to get locked up, he wasn't afraid anymore. He kept his ideas to himself though, and even though they didn't know it yet, he enjoyed spending time with his mom and grandma.

Emma let Henry tell her all his stories, explaining them as if he was explaining her family tree. She had to admit, Henry was so enthusiastic, he made them interesting to listen to. The excitement practically poured out of his voice while he told Emma where she came from and how important she was. She knew Henry was looking for a hero in her. She just didn't have the heart to let him down, to let him know she wasn't who he thought she was. She remembered that lost feeling, the wanting to know where you came from feeling that seemed to swallow you whole at the most inconvenient moments. If she could be the hero for Henry that she had needed so desperately growing up, she would suck it up and listen to his stories for as long as he needed her to.

When Henry was acting like his normal self again, on the couch watching television, Emma stood next to the T.V.

"Ready to go, kid?"

"Go?"

"To your mom's?"

"Oh, yeah. Okay."

Emma nodded her head towards the door and started walking, picking up his backpack on the way. "Jeez kid, what's in here? Rocks?"

"Nothing!" Henry said, too-quickly, grabbing it out of her hands.

"Alright-y then..." Emma said, leading him out of the apartment.

After she dropped him off at Regina's office, she let the anger buzz around in her that she had been holding back since she saw Henry in tears. She had never felt so protective, so angry. She started driving to her next stop, Dr. Archie Hopper's office.


	11. Nervous Nellie

**Storyline:** Added fluff somewhere between 1x22 and 2x01 between Henry and Emma after Emma breaks the curse and is nervous to go finally meet her parents. Thanks _snoopykid_ for the request!

**Note:** Thanks for the reviews and PM's with requests! I promise I will get to _all_ of them eventually, and I try my best to go in the order that I got them, though I'm not going to set that in stone because, ya know, you never know when inspiration strikes. In the meantime I also have two other in-progress stories _Wake Me Up _and _Ready, Set, Don't Go_, so if I'm not updating here, I'm probably over there. Enjoy!

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><p>"Hurry up kid, are you almost done?" Emma called, sitting on the hospital bed Henry woke from barely fifteen minutes ago. He was already up and at 'em, as if nothing happened. But something did happen. Everything happened. Emma's entire life had changed, she could feel it as soon as she kissed Henry's forehead.<p>

"Coming! Sheesh." Henry walked out of the tiny bathroom connected to his room, still buttoning his red and white flannel. The commotion had died down after Regina had run out, promising Henry that she really did love him. It was just Emma and him now. "What's wrong?" Henry asked as soon as he saw Emma staring at the closed book sprawled on his bed.

"Nothing," Emma said, snapping her head up and smiling at him. "Are you sure you're okay, kid? You've been through a lot. It's okay if you still want to rest a little. The bed is yours."

"Mom, I'm _fine._ Are _you_ okay?"

"I am because of you," Emma said scrunching her eyebrows at his question. "You're the one that was put under a magical sleeping curse because I didn't believe you."

"And you saved me," Henry clarified with a smile that was so big it was practically falling off his face. When Emma didn't return the smile, Henry sat down next to her on his hospital bed, his feet dangling off the side. He kicked them back and forth before speaking. "You're scared."

"Scared?"

"Of meeting your parents?" Henry asked, but continued before Emma could deny it. "It's okay. I was scared to meet you too."

"You didn't seem scared," Emma chortled.

"Well believe it or not, I _was_. I was scared that you wouldn't like me or something," Henry admitted. He continued, even when Emma opened her mouth to speak. "On the bus I almost turned around and went home. I knew I would have been punished, but I could have handled it. I knew my mom would just be happy I was okay. I really thought about it."

"So why didn't you?" Emma asked, genuinely intrigued at his story now.

"Because knowing is better than not knowing," Henry answered, poring at Emma for a reaction. She smiled and sighed, she looked sad.

"It's different, Henry."

"It's not that different."

"I already know them."

"No you don't. That was when they were cursed. They're different now. Now you can get to know who you parents really are. Who they were before they were cursed. You can get to know the real Snow White and Prince Charming."

Emma laughed, a real laugh, at the idea that this was actually happening in her life. "How can I just forget what I already know?"

Henry shrugged. He was puzzled at that part too. He only knew Mary Margaret and David Nolan too. It felt like he knew Snow White and Prince Charming though, even though technically Emma had met them and he never had. A light bulb flashed, and he twisted around to pull the book on his lap.

"Kid..."

"This is how I know them! You can know them too," Henry explained flipping through the pages quickly to his favorite passages. "This is when your parents met. Your mom hit your dad in the head with a rock."

"Henry, I've heard these stories a million times."

"Yeah, but not when you knew I wasn't crazy and they actually _are_ your parents," Henry defended, and Emma shut up. "Your dad was supposed to marry Princess Abigail, in fact he was on his way when your mom stole from his carriage. He wanted his ring back, it was his mom's, but she didn't know, so he trapped her in a net. That's when she told him sarcastically that his name should be Charming." Henry looked at Emma, who was staring intently at the book, and smiled. "You know in all their stories, they're fighting the universe to be together somehow."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. And you know what? I'm pretty sure they're going to do the same for you."

"Fight the universe?" Emma cracked in her normal you're-crazy-stories-again voice that she just couldn't seem to shake. It still felt too unreal. Henry didn't seem to mind.

"Uh-huh. To be with you. They're never going to give up on you, so maybe you should give them a chance."

"You're a smart kid, kid," Emma teased, nudging him a little sideways.

"I've never had grandparents either, you know."

Emma smiled and stood up, then held out her arm for Henry. "I might need a little more help once we get in front of them, though."

"I'll be right behind you," Henry promised, linking his arm through Emma's.


	12. Memory Lane

**Storyline:** Emma and Henry, set immediately after the 3x22 finale, where they talk about the memories Regina gave them and the mixed feelings they have, being happy to be back but sad that their memories aren't real. Thanks to s_assyswan_ for the request! What an amazing username that is though?!

Also to _jokermask18_, thank you for your "silly" request, I wasn't sure I could write a long enough piece to be a stand alone piece but I did mention your burping contest idea as one of their memories!

**Note:** Review with a request or prompt for a one-shot. I will get to them all eventually. :)

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><p>"You mean it, Mom?" Henry asked, looking up at Emma next to him in the booth, the way he had so many times before. Not many pubescent boys still looked up at their moms like she was their hero, but Henry and Emma were different. Their lives were different.<p>

"Of course I mean it," Emma smiled, happy to be back, and put her arm around him. "This is our home, after all."

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><p>As the people dwindled out of Granny's diner, Emma said bye to her parents and baby brother, hugging them both again and wiggling baby Neal's arm as a goodbye. Only her, Henry, Granny, and Red were left in the diner.<p>

"Hey kid," Emma said, sitting across from Henry. "I was thinking of getting a room at Granny's tonight."

"Not with Gram and Gramps?" Henry questioned.

"As much as I want to, I'm sure they could use a little family time with Neal. Besides, I don't think either of us would benefit by staying in a small loft with a newborn."

"True," Henry said, accepting the answer. He started to scoot off his seat to leave with his mom.

"I was thinking," Emma started. "If you'd rather stay in your old room at Regina's than a hotel room, I understand. I can drop you off."

"Oh." Henry truly didn't expect that offer, he didn't even think of it. "I think... I would rather stay with you tonight."

"Really?"

Henry nodded.

"Alright," Emma let herself smile. "A room for two then."

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><p>Emma stared at her reflection in the narrow mirror that hung on the closet door at Granny's. Her hair was down and wavy like normal, and she had changed into the blue and white plaid pajamas and with an unexpected start, she realized the last time she had worn these was the morning Hook showed up at her door in New York. As she thought about the life she was living before, she came back down to reality with a knock on her door.<p>

"Henry?" She asked, opening the door to her room. "Why aren't you in your room?"

"I couldn't sleep. Having an entire room to yourself is lonely."

Emma smiled and opened the door wider for Henry to fit through. He made her way past her and sat on her bed, waiting for her to come back.

"I don't know what's real anymore," Henry admitted all of a sudden, looking up to see Emma's reaction. She scrunched her eyebrows, so he continued to explain. "I have my memories back, but I still remember growing up with you, too. How do I know which one is real?"

"You grew up in Storybrooke, with Regina," Emma said sadly. "When we had to leave, Regina gave us fake-"

"No, I know that. It just doesn't _feel_ like that."

Emma sighed, crossing her legs on her bed sitting across from her son. She stared at her blue and white pajamas for a moment before speaking.

"Do you remember in the fake memories, your fifth birthday party? At that indoor water park? You invited your entire kindergarten class _plus _the class next to yours, insisted that every _single_ one was your friend and had to come."

Henry laughed. "I remember. There was like over thirty kids at that party, right? You were going crazy."

"Uh-huh. Just when I thought I had it under control, and you puked all over the inside of that huge twisty-turvy slide. I had to call every single one of their parents to pick them up early."

"I remember that! I spent all night on the couch crying over my party ending!" Henry laughed and continued. "Do you remember that play I was in in fourth grade?"

"The Thanksgiving one? How could I forget! You were the tree in the background and you said you wanted to be an actor for a good year after that. You kept asking me to get you an agent! That was almost as bad as when you decided you wanted to be a chef and set off the fire alarm in the whole building."

"I remember that! Wasn't it at like two a.m?" Henry, at this point, was holding his stomach from laughing so hard. Emma wasn't far behind him.

"More like eleven at night. _After_ I told you to go to bed and you had pretended to. You waited until I went in my room to go 'practice' your skill."

"And you yelled at me when we were standing in the parking lot in our pajamas in front of everyone!"

"I'll never forget what you said," Emma said, her face aching from laughing. "'An artist never rests, Mom' I swear I was about to lock you out and let you spend the night in that parking lot."

"That was almost as bad as your first date with Walsh. Do you remember the night you came home and I asked how it went?"

"I did something gross in response, didn't I? Like burp or something?"

"Yes!" Henry said excitedly. "I figured you didn't want to talk about it yet, so I burped back."

"That's right. We had that killer contest. I recall I won that."

"Of course that's what _you _remember."

"Because it's true," Emma grinned.

"It _feels_ true, doesn't it?" Henry asked, suddenly getting serious.

"Yeah," Emma said after a moment. "It does."

"I think I understand why you didn't want to tell me when we first came. You wanted to protect me."

"Henry," Emma sighed. "I shouldn't have kept it from you. You know, I guess I'm newer to this parenting thing than I thought. I wanted you to have a normal life, I wanted to go back to that with you, but it was stupid and selfish of me. This, Storybrooke, _is _your life, and I shouldn't have kept it from you."

"It's okay, Mom. I don't think you did anything wrong. You know, I'm glad we're home, but...but I do wish all these memories I had with you, I wish they were real. I mean, _you_ are my mom. I wish I got to grow up with you."

"Me too, kid," Emma said, scooting next to Henry. "But all we have is the here and now. And here and now, we have each other."

Henry yawned and leaned into his mom. "So you got anything good on the T.V. here?"

Emma laughed, feeling grateful for this moment with her son. Whatever happened from here, she had a fresh start to make real memories with her son, with her parents, with her family.


	13. Olivia Mills

**Storyline: **Mini one-shot. Set far in the future. Henry has a daughter Olivia who has some trouble at school when she tells stories about her grandma and great-grandparents.

**Note: **This is an old one-shot I decided to post because I got very sick over the weekend and just am not able to write to the best of my ability. Hope you enjoy, I'll get to all the requests I still have as soon as I get back to my normal self. Leave any more requests in the reviews, and I promise to get to them soon :)

* * *

><p>"THEY ARE!" Olivia yelled at the kids mocking her story. Her hands balled into fists, and she had to calm herself down. If she didn't get it under control they would call her father again.<p>

"You're straight up crazy Olivia!"

"No I'm not! You believed me before Cece!" Olivia's anger suddenly dissipated into disappointment. She thought her best friend would stick up for her.

"Don't tell her what she believed, chicken legs," Cece's new friend, Matthew, added delicately to the conversation. With it, Olivia got a shove down on her knees. "Back to the position you know so well."

Olivia didn't know what it meant, but she didn't like the tone of his voice. Either way, he deserved what he got. She shoved her whole right arm into the back of his knees and he went stumbling down. Olivia got up quickly and kicked him in the stomach. All the girls were screaming, but she ignored them. She hated them. She knew she could get in one good hit before she was dragged away to the principals office, and she was right. Within moments, a teacher was physically dragging her inside the building, back to the office she had come to know pretty well.

"Olivia, Olivia, Olivia, why are you doing this to me?"

She shrugged.

"You know I have to call your father again."

She shrugged again, to make it seem like she didn't care. She knew her father would be mad though if he had to leave work again. Which he would, and he'd have to stay home tomorrow too. The new zero tolerance policy prohibited a student returning to school for 24 hours after the act of violence. Yes, he would be mad. She promised to stop. Her assistant principal was already dialing though. She crossed her arms and listened.

"Hi Mr. Mills, I'm sorry for bothering you. There has been an another incident at school today, I'm afraid."

Olivia could swear she heard her father sigh through the phone.

"No, she's not hurt. But she will need to be picked up immediately. She may return to school Monday... yes, Monday. Yes, the policy is 24 hours after the first offense. This is Olivia's third. That's three day suspension. Any incidents following this will result in expulsion. ...Yes, we understand. However, we have a zero tolerance policy. Yes, she will be waiting in my office. Thank you. Have a great day, Mr. Mills...er, sorry, Henry."

Olivia looked at her assistant principal up and down. He was middle aged, well-dressed, and had no pictures of family on his desk. He seemed different when he talked on the phone to her dad. He even smiled. She wondered if he enjoyed calling her father more than he would admit.

"Explusion?" She asked.

"Olivia, you should be expelled for _this_ one."

"What about Matthew? He started it."

"All the witnesses say you pushed him down first."

"They're lying! Of course they'd lie for him! They're all on the same side."

"And which side is that?"

"The one against me," she muttered.

* * *

><p>Henry Mills once again excused himself from his office to pick up his daughter from the expensive private middle school he paid for her to attend. Luckily the hours were flexible as a publisher and editor, and he could work from home easily. His boss was understanding of the circumstances, considering <em>he <em>was the boss.. He started the company 15 years ago, three years before Olivia was born. It was just starting to take off when Olivia's mom followed suit and did the same. Olivia had grown up largely with her grandmother, and despite Emma's years of a skeptic, she was a firm believer now and loved to tell her granddaughter all their families stories.

As normal of a life that Henry wanted for Olivia, he couldn't deny his mother from telling his daughter stories about her parents. His mom had lived the first 28 years of her life without his grandparents, and when she did find them, they were fairy-tale characters. They were interesting story topics. But no one clarified to Liv that they were fake, namely because they weren't. So a 12 year old goes to school with the knowledge that her great grandparents were Snow White and Prince Charming, and she gets sent home a few times for some fights.

You win some, you lose some.

"Olivia," Henry sighed exasperated, pushing the double doors out of the building and holding Olivia's bag on one shoulder. It was sunny, but cold. The day that's deceiving in a window because it looks warm out, but you really need a winter coat.

"Dad, he started it this time. He pushed me down. I was defending myself."

"Okay," Henry said, rubbing his left temple while they walked.

"I'm serious!"

"I know, Livvy. I believe you."

"You do?"

"Should I not?"

"No! I mean, yes, you should."

"Okay," Henry assured. "Then I do. How about a visit to Gram? I need to head back to the office tonight if I'm going to be missing more than one day."

Olivia tried not to let her excitement show. Grandma Emma's was her favorite place to go, but she knew she was supposed to be in trouble.

"Okay," she said as nonchalantly as she could. She looked at the ground when she answered, just in case the excitement showed in her eyes.


	14. Snow White

**Storyline:** Set in the missing year in New York. Henry and Emma watch Snow White together and something feels eerily familiar. Thanks _DarkSecretWaterbender _for the request!

**Note:** Review with an idea or request for a one-shot :)

* * *

><p>"Henry shut your game off!" Emma called from the kitchen as the microwave popped the kernels in the popcorn bag. As it beeped, Emma used one hand to lift it out quickly and dropped it on the counter before she could burn herself. It was hot enough to burn her anyway, and she flung her hand back in reflex. "Have you done your homework?"<p>

"Pretty much," Henry said, ignoring his mom's request and clicking away on his controller. Emma pursed her lips, then reached for the remote on the table behind the couch. When the screen went blank, Henry looked up in shock. "Mom!" He whined. "I was _one_ shot away from the next level!"

"Yeah, and then you would have to beat the level after that, and the level after that, and the level after that. Come on, homework time."

"I thought having a young mom made them _cool_."

"I am a cool mom. Homework can be cool. What do you got?" Emma asked, bringing Henry's backpack to him on the couch, where it had been previously strewn across the floor.

"Nothing _cool,_" Henry said, rolling his eyes. "Bookwork for math, uh, oh, for history I'm doing a project on Walt Disney. I have to watch five of his films over the weekend."

"Five? So your homework this weekend is to watch five movies and you're _complaining?"_

"It's Walt Disney. That means like those cartoon love story disney princess movies. Not really my thing."

"Still better than most homework. What should we start with?"

Henry sighed and looked at the list he had to cover over the weekend. "I guess, Snow White? It's that or Cinderella."

"Snow White?" Emma smiled. "I always remember loving that movie. I'm pretty sure I have it on disc somewhere."

"You do?" Henry asked surprised. Emma was already on her way to her bedroom to search for it.

"I have no idea why or how," Emma called, walking back out. "I don't remember getting it. But I must have had it for a long time, because I feel like I know the story."

"That's weird," Henry noted, getting his school supplies out of backpack.

"Yeah," Emma agreed. "Hey, I even made popcorn already and everything. I guess it was meant to be a Friday night movie night."

"Of course," Henry teased, knowing his mom had just started dating Walsh, and he could tell she was starting to get feelings for him. Which meant she was steadily trying to avoid him.

"Hey," Emma warned, grabbing the DVD remote and sitting back on the couch. "Enjoy your popcorn and be quiet."

"Yeah, yeah," Henry said, throwing a handful in his mouth.

* * *

><p>At the end of the movie, Henry's notebook was blank. He was supposed to be taking notes on Walt Disney's methods in creating his movies, but he was mesmerized by the movie. Embarrassingly, he looked at his mom, and she seemed to be wearing the same expression he pictured on his own face.<p>

"Mom?"

"Huh?"

"Have we watched that before?"

"I-I don't think so. Why?"

"Well you've said you had it forever. I was thinking maybe we watched when I was little or something? I know it sounds weird, but that felt so familiar. I felt like I've... _lived _it."

"Henry, that's crazy," Emma said, not making eye contact. Her eyes were still fixated on the screen. She had devoured every minute of the movie, and she was feeling the same thing. She had the movie, she must have watched it before. She must have somehow gotten her hands on it in the foster system. But try as she might, she could not remember ever obtaining the movie, and she couldn't remember ever watching it. Some houses she had lived in had movie nights, but those were special occasions, and she was pretty sure she remembered all of them. It was never disney princess movies, always vetoed by the boys in the house. She must have seen it somewhere though. Or maybe it just felt familiar because it was such a big franchise.

"I know," Henry admitted, studying his mom. "But you feel it too, don't you?"

Emma turned, defeated, knowing her face gave it away. "Yes," she said quietly. "I don't know what it is. It must be because it's such a popular movie."

"I don't think everyone gets this attached to the Snow White movie."

"There's no other explanation, Henry."

Henry shifted his jaw. "Yeah," he agreed. "I guess. I have to write about the most moving parts about the movie and why they were an important part of Walt's vision. What do you think?"

Emma thought. "Well the method the movie is told in really adds to it. It's told through a story book. It makes you feel like you, too, have a storybook with an entire life in it somewhere."

Henry looked at his mom suspiciously, but scribbled down what she said.

"And the huntsman. When he's going to kill Snow White, but decides to spare her instead. You feel like you're right there with them in that moment. Like you owe your life to him, too."

"Mom... are you okay?"

"I thought you needed to know for your homework?"

"I do. But it just... you seem really affected by the movie."

"Well, Walt did a good job," Emma joked. "It was a good movie."

"I'm not saying I disagree with you. I'm just saying I don't think I've ever seen you like this."

"Like what?"

"I dunno," Henry shrugged. "You seem lonely."

"Lonely?" Emma questioned. "How could I be lonely when I have you?" To prove her point, Emma threw a piece of leftover popcorn in the bowl towards Henry, hitting his arm and bouncing off into the couch cushion.

"Can I play _Alien Invasion III _again for a few hours?"

"Go take a shower first and get ready for bed," Emma bargained. "We'll see."

Henry groaned, but once he let the warm water hit him in the shower he realized how groggy and tired he felt. When he went back in his room to change, he fell asleep in his pajamas on top of his bedspread. When he woke up, the clock on his nightstand blinked 1:36am. Rubbing his eyes, he quickly remembered what happened and got up, picking up the dirty towel on the way out. The hallway was dark, but from the bathroom he could see a single light flashing in the living room, and he quickly realized it was the T.V. He strained his ears, recognizing within minutes the sound of the Snow White movie coming off the television screen. He knew it had gotten to his mom. He knew it.

Wordlessly, he made his way back to the couch where his mom was staring bleary-eyed at the screen. She didn't notice him until he sat down on the couch next to her.

He leaned into her shoulder to start watching, and she opened her arm to put it around him, welcoming him into the embrace.

"I can't explain it either," Henry whispered comfortingly.


	15. Crushed

**Storyline: **Set in the place of the missing year in New York. Henry gets his first crush things don't really go as planned. Emma and Henry moments, enjoy. This was fun to write. Thanks to _Jokermask18_ for the request :)

* * *

><p>"Here," Henry said, reaching down and picking up the chewed pen off the ground. "You dropped this."<p>

"Thanks," the girl's voice was timid, her cheeks were rosy as she took the pen out of Henry's hand. He watched her, suddenly feeling fixated on her. Her dirty blonde hair fell freely on her shoulders and her nose was scattered with faint freckles. "I'm new. I just moved here with my dad."

"I live with my mom," Henry sympathized immediately at the last sentence. "Do you get the nonstop attention too?"

"Oh my god, yes! It's like my dad has nothing else to care about! I do have an older brother though, so they like, bond and stuff."

Henry laughed. "Same. But it's just been me and my mom my entire life, though, so it's whatever," Henry shrugged. "I'm Henry, by the way."

"Ellie," she smiled and tucked her hair behind her ears. Henry noticed the color returning to her cheeks, and he couldn't help but smile. He wondered why.

"Henry, Ellie!" Henry's strict History teacher called. "Do you have something you want to discuss with the class?"

Henry was still staring at Ellie when she shook her head violently. She kept her head turned towards the front, and Henry desperately wanted her to look towards him again. He wanted to talk to her more, and he didn't know why.

As he watched the clock tick on, his hands became sweaty as he thought about speaking to her again. He couldn't lose his nerve. He would ask her to hang out, like he would ask Jacob or Derek. He obviously wanted to be her friend because of what they had in common. It wasn't weird.

"Ellie!" Henry called before she could walk too far away. "Do you- do you want to hang out sometime?"

"Hang... out?"

"Yeah. You could come over and play video games or something. Or we could go out to like, the movies or um, dinner."

"Video games sounds cool," Ellie smiled. "Do you have the new _Alien Invasion?"_

"The third? Are you kidding?! I'm on level 12!"

"Oh, a rookie, that's cool too. I don't mind schooling you a little bit."

"A _rookie?!_ It just came out!"

Ellie shrugged and smiled. "Do you have a cell phone? I'll put my number in."

Henry, much too excitedly, whipped out the basic flip phone his mom had gotten him for emergencies.

Ellie punched in some keys. "I'll ask my dad tonight. You can call me later and let me know what your mom says."

"She'll be fine with it," Henry assured her.

"Okay, cool. So call me and let me know when I should come."

"Will do," Henry agreed. "I'll call you."

* * *

><p>Three hours later, Henry walked into his apartment still buzzing. All he could think about was sitting on the couch and staring at Ellie's number in his phone.<p>

"Hey, kid," Emma said from the counter, dipping a piece of celery straight into the peanut butter jar. "What's up?"

"Mom? What are you doing home?"

"Good to see you too," Emma joked, dropping her celery and joining Henry on the couch. "What's got you all excited?"

"What do you mean?" Henry said, a little too defensively.

"You just seem like you're in a good mood," Emma said lightly, then got serious. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, of course everything's okay. I met a new friend today, she's going to come over this weekend to hang out. That's cool, right?"

"She?"

"Uh yeeeeuuuuh. You know those exist out there, right Mom?"

"Yes, _I _know that. I just didn't know you did. What's her name?"

"Ellie, and it's nothing! We're just friends!"

"Whoa kid, settle down. Nobody said you weren't. Although you are acting like..."

"It's nothing," Henry mumbled, shuffling to try and get up. He didn't make it far, he could feel his mom's gaze on him telling him to sit back down. "So can she come over Friday night? I'm supposed to call her with an answer."

"Relax for a minute, would you?" Emma asked, following him to the table. "Can we talk about it for a minute?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"It's okay to have a crush on someone," Emma said, her tone more understanding. "You don't have to be embarrassed about it."

"I'm not embarrassed about anything. We're just friends. She just moved here with her Dad, we have a lot in common."

"What? The single-parent thing?"

Henry shrugged. Emma softened her gaze and rubbed his back, then ruffled his hair and got up.

"Tell her Friday is great. And I can't wait to meet her."

* * *

><p>"I'll get it!" Henry yelled at the doorbell sounding throughout the apartment. Emma yelled to slow down, but it got lost in the excitement of his feet skidding against the floor. He was wearing a button down shirt and his hair was slicked back and parted.<p>

"Hi," Henry said breathlessly, opening the door without looking.

"Hi," said a balding older man. "Sorry to disturb you on a Friday evening. I'm signing a petition for the landlord about the water pressure on the third floor and I-"

"_MOM!" _Henry called, too disappointed to try hiding it.

"Hi," Emma said, appearing behind Henry. She took the clipboard out his hand and scribbled an illegible signature. "Have a good night."

"Thank you so much!" He said sincerely as Emma closed the door behind him.

"She'll be here soon, kid," Emma said, putting her hand on the back of his head then giving him a little push towards the couch.

But after an hour, Henry was starting to get worried. He sat on the couch, twiddling his thumbs and wondering if something had happened to Ellie.

"Maybe I should call her."

"Go ahead. Maybe something came up."

Henry dialed the number eagerly. Ellie answered after six rings, after Henry had started considering giving up and hanging up.

"Hello?"

"Ellie? Hey, it's me, Henry! Did you get caught in traffic or something? The pizza is getting cold. It's okay though, we can have something else. Or order more. I have enough money to get more."

"Oh, Henry, I'm so sorry! I totally forgot to call you! Some girls in my Language class asked me to sleepover tonight. But maybe we can hangout another time?"

"Oh. Okay, yeah. Sure. Have fun."

"Thanks Henry! Bye!" Ellie chirped.

"Bye," Henry said miserably.

"Didn't go so well?" Emma asked, looking sadly at her son.

"She has other plans. She forgot," Henry almost forgot to hide his sadness, but quickly recovered. "It's fine. She wasn't that great anyway."

"I thought she was the 'prettiest girl you'd ever seen'?"

"I _told _you that?" Henry said, his cheeks burning like they had been lit on fire.

"Well you did just now. Come here, bud," Emma tried to squeeze Henry into a tight hug, the ones more and more frequently he had begun to dodge.

"Mom," he whined. "Don't."

Emma kissed the side of his head before letting him go. "More time for you to myself. I can't complain."

"_Mom," _Henry repeated, this time the embarrassment almost leaking out of him.

"Fine. How about some Space Invasion?"

"It's _Alien Invasion," _Henry corrected. "You don't even know how to play."

"I beg to differ," Emma said, falling into the couch and turning the tv on. "I'm an expert."

"I'm a level _twelve,_" Henry warned. "But fine. You asked for it, though."

Emma smiled, grateful for the pieces of Henry that were still her little boy.


	16. Frozen Pumpkins

**Storyline: **Set in the... near future? Elsa, Anna, Emma, and Henry go pumpkin picking together, but when they're carving them later Regina shows up at Henry's invitation. It's a conversation between Emma and Regina I personally think they need to have, but it's very, very slightly SQ suggestive.

**Note: **I have been so beyond busy, so I'm sorry for not posting much. I had a really weird moment this morning when I was waking up and half-dreaming where I was telling someone that I would write about the fab four pumpkin picking and then I decided to actually do it, even though it wasn't real? So yeah. Here though, hope you guys like.

* * *

><p>"And we are to... carve faces into these?" Elsa looked around suspiciously, like surely if she said it too loudly, then someone would overhear and send her to a looney bin.<p>

"Yes!" Henry answered excitedly, not even looking up from the pumpkin patch to meet Elsa's eye when she answered.

Elsa watched him curiously while he tried to pick up a pumpkin that was almost bigger than him.

"Elsa!" Anna called, running over with a medium sized pumpkin in her hand. Emma trailed behind her, a tiny pumpkin in her hands as well. "Look at this!" Anna called, increasing her pace towards her sister. "Emma told me that we can carve them to have FACES! Isn't that something, Elsa?"

"It's a bit odd," Elsa said timidly, but even she couldn't help but smile at Anna's enthusiasm for it. It seemed contagious, as the mood was very light and happy.

"What is this, kid?" Emma asked, staring at the giant pumpkin Henry was guarding. "Are you trying to go to the ball with Cinderella?"

"It's going to be the coolest pumpkin ever," Henry defended. "Can I get this one, _please_ Mom please oh please please please-"

"Not if you say please one more time," Emma teased, making Henry close his mouth tightly and pretend to zipper it. "Why don't you go help Aunt Elsa pick out her own pumpkin while I try to get this thing to the front?"

Henry's face erupted into a large smile as he took Elsa's hand without warning, leading her deeper into the pumpkin patch.

"How about this one?" Henry suggested, picking up the most average pumpkin he could find.

"It's... quite boring, is it not?" Elsa asked, seemingly unsure of her opinion.

Henry grinned. "Fair enough."

* * *

><p>Elsa settled on a pumpkin Henry found that resembled the shape of a heart, with Henry's insistence that it was very rare and very cool.<p>

"After we carve them," Elsa asked, sitting at the island in Emma's kitchen. "How long do we wait until we bake and serve them?"

"Bake and serve? As in food?"

"Right."

"We don't eat them, Aunt Elsa," Henry laughed. "We put them outside for people to look at and enjoy. We can bake the seeds though."

"And not plant them for more?"

"I mean, I guess we could. We don't usually though."

"Oh."

"It's fun, Els," Anna said, her tongue sticking in between her teeth as she drew a face onto the pumpkin with the sharpie Emma provided her. She seemed deep in thought, trying to make every shape perfect.

"I was just trying to understand it, Anna," Elsa defended, then looked back and forth before picking up a sharpie and starting to draw on her pumpkin. Both Anna and Elsa seemed unfazed by the ringing of the doorbell, and Emma looked at Henry in surprise.

"Did you invite someone?" Emma asked. Henry shrugged guiltily, and Emma, still having no idea who it was, went to the door.

"Regina?" Emma asked.

"Hi, uh, Henry invited me to carve pumpkins."

"You did?" Emma called over her own shoulder, moving aside to let Regina inside.

"I thought she could help," Henry shrugged, moving over to open up a seat next to him.

"I don't have to stay," Regina offered tentatively. Seeing her unsure of herself made Emma uneasy.

"No, no, it's fine. Henry got a pumpkin way too big for him to carve himself. We could use your help."

Regina smiled gratefully, moving her way to the seat Henry emptied for her.

"Do you carve pumpkins often?" Elsa asked as Regina sat down.

"I thought it was weird at first, too," Regina laughed, putting her hand on Elsa's arm. Elsa raised her eyebrows in surprise, but Regina continued casually. "You get used to it. Everything here is... a little off. But it's all harmless and very, very interesting."

Elsa seemed incredibly assured at Regina's words. Emma watched Regina curiously, smiling more and more as Regina relaxed with Henry at her side.

"Mom?" Henry spoke distractedly, fixated on his pumpkin.

"Yes?" Emma and Regina's voices echoed each other, and both looked at each other clearly unsure of what to say. Elsa and Anna watched to see what happened next. Henry spoke.

"Oh. Uh, I meant mom number one."

"What do you need, honey?" Regina spoke as if Henry's explanation cleared it all up. Emma scrunched her eyebrows.

"Hey, how do you know you're mom number one?" Emma asked defensively.

"Because I was his mother first, obviously," Regina rolled her eyes.

"Well if you want to get technical, _I _was his mother first because I _created_ him," Emma argued, pointing to her stomach. Regina rolled her eyes even harder, as if she was speaking to a child.

"Yes, well, he knew me first."

"Guys, stop," Henry ordered. "How about I call you guys different names to clear up the confusion? One Mom, one Mother."

"Great," Emma agreed.

"Perfect," Regina added.

"So I'm Mom and Regina is Mother."

"No way, I'm not being Mother! That sounds like a punishment."

"You guys are _impossible_!" Henry exclaimed, dropping his carving knife. "We can't even be a family for 5 stupid minutes!"

"Henry..." Regina reached out, but Henry jerked his arm away and left the kitchen chair towards his room.

"Do you mind if I speak with him?" Elsa asked, pushing her chair away to stand up. Emma looked at Regina, who was looking at her, and they both shrugged.

"You just seem more like a Mother type," Emma mumbled, kicking the air in front of her feet.

"Really, Emma?"

"I just mean cause you're responsible, and always know what's best for him, and have rules, and I don't know. You're the mature one. I just showed up out of nowhere and am still trying to figure it out all out with him."

Regina nodded, feeling more empathetic for Emma than she ever had with anyone before. "You know what he used to call me?" Regina asked, smiling at the memories. Emma shook her head. "Mummy. All the time. There was no one else. Every day he'd come running into my arms yelling it, excited to tell me about his day, his dreams, everything in the world. I _was _his whole world. I had him all to myself. For his entire life, he only knew me as Mummy. Then all of a sudden you enter it, and I'm pushed aside, and all of a sudden I'm Regina, Mother at best."

"Regina..." Emma didn't need a guilt trip. She already knew what happened.

"It's not your fault," Regina continued, "but I still blamed you. No matter what he calls me, I will always be his Mummy. I will always put him first, and if that means stepping aside to Mother so somebody he's been looking for his entire life can love him, I can do that."

"Regina..." Emma repeated, putting her hand over Regina's. "We'll figure something out. We can both be his mom."

* * *

><p>"Go away," Henry mumbled into his pillow when he heard the door creak open. He didn't want to see <em>either <em>of his moms right now.

"It is me," Elsa said, continuing into Henry's room. "Your room looks like it has been hit by a tornado."

Elsa's honest observation made Henry giggle into his bed, and despite his efforts to hide it, Elsa saw it and caught on. She sat on the side of his bed and put her hand on his back.

"Why have you gotten so upset?" She asked, rubbing her hand up and down on his back.

"It's nothing," Henry mumbled, but couldn't stop himself from turning around to face her.

"You care about my mom, right? I mean, Emma."

"With my whole heart," Elsa nodded solemnly. "She's like another sister to me."

"I want my moms to care about each other too. It seems like they can barely tolerate each other. They _hate_ each other."

"I don't know about that," Elsa argued. "They have the most powerful force in the world binding them."

"What's that?" Henry asked curiously.

"Well, love, of course. The way they feel about you. You'd be surprised at how the most unlikely people can come together for a love not even half as strong as the kind that they both so clearly have for you."

Henry sat up and put his arms around Elsa's waist. "Thanks Aunt Elsa," Henry smiled into her. "Do you wanna finish your pumpkin?"

"Well, I suppose we didn't get them for nothing. Besides," Elsa smiled slyly, "I'm trying to carve out a snowflake."


End file.
